Peter looks at his old bed. He was surprised he could still fit inside of his tree, since that was his only entrance to his secret hideout he had been worried he had grown too much to make it through. But his bed...well that was going to have to be extended. Not because he'd grown too tall for it, which he had, but because Wendy would also be sleeping there with him. It would have to be extended outwards to the side so that it could accompany more than just his massive body. Was he massive? Or had he just been used to being small for so long that he didn't know what it felt like to be a normal sized man? No, he was not a man. He would never be a man. He swore to himself he would not grown another inch.

He had convinced Tinkerbell to stay back in England to watch over Wendy, be the proof that Peter would return. It would also serve to remind Peter that Tink was in England with Wendy, so he could not forget what he was doing in Neverland. But he could not take his eyes off of that bed. It looked so much more inviting than the beds that Wendy and Michael and John and the lost boys had slept in, back in whatever world that was. The blankets were made of the warmest animal skin he could hunt, he'd made them himself, but of course Wendy had helped make them warm by introducing the concept of adding several layers of blankets during colder nights. He had to lie down, if even just for a moment.

He was in no way tired, he'd slept more in this past few weeks than ever before in his life. In England he hardly had anything to do, since Wendy would not make love to him again and the lost boys were now too old to play the games they once had. But here, alone, he felt something stir in him that he hasn't felt in a very long time.

He closed his eyes and imagined Wendy on top of him, her clothes off and a loving grin on her face. It was hard for him to imagine these things, and yet it still felt unstoppable. He didn't understand what he was feeling, it was a mixture of curiosity and happiness, and then there was also guilt for thinking of what had made a baby. Was it wrong that he wanted her still in that way? He was conflicted with himself, and soon enough he noticed that a certain part of his body had awakened.

He grimaced and stood from the bed, deciding he'd done enough thinking, and he'd spent enough time in Neverland. It was time for him to return home to Wendy. He just hoped he hadn't stayed too long. To him, he had stayed in Neverland for three days, waiting for the icy cold winter that'd covered the lands to melt to a cool spring. He knew he should wait until it was summer, but he was afraid that since time worked differently in England, Wendy could have already grown by now.

But wouldn't Tinkerbell have come back to tell him? That was the only thing that had kept him there in Neverland for another three days. Those last few days were much harder than the first, not because he was lonely, but because he was scared he was missing something. Finally, one afternoon, he sprinted towards the water at the bay to get a headstart into the air. It was something he only ever did when he was excited, or in a hurry. He shot off into the sky, away from the now warm and sunny Neverland and to England.

/

His suspicions were confirmed when he arrived to an empty home.

"Wendy?!" he yells through the halls. "Tinkerbell? John, Michael!" he's panicking. He knows that he's probably overreacting, that the family is probably in school or at the market, maybe the theater. The weather was the same as when he left, it was chilly and rainy. He took a deep breath and buried his head head in his hands, trying to slow his actions. Then he heard a familiar jingling in his ear.

"You silly ass, they've only gone to hospital to make sure Wendy is healthy. They're to find out if the baby is a boy or a girl today," Tinkerbell tells him, and he can see through her tough exterior that she has grown to love this family in the time that he's been gone.

"I'm so glad to see you Tink," Peter exhales, trying to hide his obvious relief. "How long have I been gone?" he questions slowly.

"Five months. Your lovely has started to get really big." She gestured with her hands to her stomach, making an outward curve. She winks, obviously teasing. He sighs, letting it go.

"Didn't Wendy say she only had seven months more to go... I have missed all that time with her? Why didn't you come back and tell me I had been gone that long?!" Peter is suddenly furious.

"She wouldn't let me leave!" she defends. "She was scared that if I left, I might never come back."

Peter groans and knocks his head against the wall in frustration. Suddenly the door opens and the family shuffles in, startling him and sending him flying back against the ceiling. Mrs. Darling screams and drops the roses she held in her arms, presumably for the dining room table. Then he remembers, Mrs. Darling had not seen him in five months, much less seen him fly. Then he notices Wendy, wide eyed and looking as startled as him. He shook himself back to consciousness, lowering himself to the floor and embracing her tightly. Then he meets resistance. He pulls back to look at her, and his jaw nearly drops to the floor.

"Wendy...you're...um...you've gotten..." he stutters, not sure what to think.

"Very, very pregnant." She gives him a small smile and hugs him once more, this time refusing to let go. When he pulls back to look at her face he notices her tears; tears of joy and relief. He wipes them away with his thumb, dirt caked under his fingernails.

"I promise," he whispered, "I was only gone for a week." His voice drops lower. "Time works differently," he chokes on a lump in his throat, "I didn't intend to stay away for this long... I'm so sorry..." They hug once more, tighter and tighter.

/

Wendy expected her parents to be more controlling with Peter once he returned, but they were surprisingly supportive. She knows how much they truly love her, despite how much her life had drastically changed. She was going to have a baby boy, and Peter cried when she told him.

"I'm so happy to be with you again," he whispers in her ear that night as they lie together in each others arms. It had taken them several minutes to find a comfortable position since her belly was so big. She lifts her head from his shoulder and smiles at him; he kisses her lips. What surprises her is the fact that he doesn't stop, and soon he's nudging her over, onto her back as he started trailing kisses down her neck. Now, the past few months Wendy had become overwhelmed with a mixture of hormones from her baby, and lust was one of them, so she was not able to voice her protest to Peter's sexual advances.

Soon they're panting and kissing vigorously. She catches her breath and pulls away.

"Don't you think I'm so repulsive?" she gestures to her belly.

"How could you say that?" he whispers. "You're strong enough to carry a baby in there...theres a life there...I've seen amazing magic, Wendy, but nothing as amazing as this..." he tells her. Again though, there's that spark of confusion in him. As much as this baby scares him, he can't help but love it deeply. Adding to the confusion is the way he feels, the way he wants Wendy...the way he wants to take their clothes off...

"I love you so much Peter," Wendy sighs, kissing him once more.

"I love you too, but we must stop," he pushes her away, panting. "I don't want to make anymore mistakes. One baby is enough."

She laughs. "We can do it again if you want, nothing will happen. Since there's already a baby in there, another one can't grow, it's all okay," she assures, but with the way she's kissing is neck and rubbing his chest, he knows that she wants him. She could very well be telling a lie to get him to calm down and make love with her.

"Please," he groans, though he doesn't know what he's asking for. He returns her kisses for a moment, falling uncontrollably into the motion of their desperate passion. He's never felt a desire so deep. Then he notices Wendy's hand slide from his arm down his stomach, rubbing against his hardened manhood. He whimpers and grinds his hips into her palm, the hazy lust completely enveloping him. "We can't do this..." he whispers quietly, not even sure that he said it.

"Fine," Wendy says, pulling away and stopping the delicious rubbing she was giving his arousal. He immediately regrets saying that the moment the pleasure is gone. But when he opens his eyes and sees the way she's looking at him, he knows that this is anything but over. He barely has time to react before she's digging through his leaves, retreiving his mahood to the open air faster than he ever had before. She's suddenly down lower, her mouth nearing its target. His heart races and he looks at her curiously, pulse pounding his body and he can't think straight.

Then she's sliding him into her mouth, tongue tracing the head in a way that could have killed any man had he not been as strong as Peter. His head falls back and his fists grasp the sheets.

"Still think we should stop?" Wendy questions, using her hand to rub him, but it felt different now that her mouth had made him wet.

"No," he chokes queitly. So she grins and returns to her work.

/

Peter falls back against the pillows, and he see's stars. He's on the brink of that insane feeling again, the feeling that he felt he night he and Wendy made their baby.

"Wendy, it's happening again," she says to her, voice shaking. He tangles his fingers in her hair and watches, mesmerized, as she works on his manhood. She doesn't look up, she just keeps going. His stomach tightens, iron coil cracking as it's pulled tighter. He's so ready to explode. He thinks perhaps maybe he spoke too softly. "Wendy, that thing, it's happening." His voice is more urgent than before. It's so close now. It's making his body hot. His fingers are trembling and sweat drips down his temple, his thick hair making his head warm. He's taking deeper breaths, panting her name urgently, trying to get her attention. "Wendy please!" he moans suddenly, already starting to see past the stars into the universe and beyond.

She pulls off and kisses his stomach, his arousal throbbing. He looks down at her with a look on his face that almost made her cry; it was so beautiful and helpless. His cheeks were red and his eyes held the gateway to his soul wide open.

"Why...why did you..." he whimpers.

"I'm not ready yet," she whispers lovingly, gently tugging on his hardened length while kissing his stomach, dipping her tongue into his navel. He shudders and his hips move into her rythem; he's desperate for release.

"Please... I can feel it...so close..." Peter looks down at her kissing his belly. He knows trying to convince her is a lost cause.

"Do you know what happens when you orgasm?" she inquires. His eyebrows pull together and he looks at her curiously. He's trying very hard to maintain a steady attitude, but inside his body is a jump and a skip away from falling over that edge.

"It feels real good," he murmurs, squeezing his eyes shut and his breath hitching. He needs it now.

"But physically," she adds, increasing the torture with more words.

"No, no I have no idea." He chokes as her fingertips massage the head of his mahood, right where all the nerve endings were. "Ohhh, yes, please don't stop," he cries, hands tangling in the sheets, knuckles white. His head was thrown back and his back was arched; at this point he was sweating all over. His body was glistening and his hair fell across his face in a way that made Wendy simply die. She leans up to kiss him, pressing her lips against his in a heated hurry, passion enveloping them.

He wraps his arms around her tightly, and she marvels at his strength. She tightens her fingers and begins to pleasure him to her full potential. He groans into her mouth, suddenly unable to breath.

"Don't stop, please," he pleads, his breath heavy. She rubs harder and faster, squeezing him tightly as she kisses his neck up and down, carefully watching the expressions on his face.

"Come for me Peter," she whispers in his ear, nibbling on his earlobe.

Though Peter has absolutely no idea what she means, it spurs him on. It's the tone of her voice and just knowing she wants him to reach that peak is enough to send him flying over it.

She pulls away and straddles his hips, watching him from above as she continues her work, grinning. He watches her with lust filled eyes, and she can see him getting closer.

Suddenly, his eyes widen and his breathing escelates to a rapid point. His stomach twitches, his back arches, and this moan like nothing Wendy had ever heard before escapes his lips. He's holding back screams, only letting low guttural sounds come through. He's holding onto the sheets to tightly he's afraid he might break his fingers, but he's not worried about that right now. He can't believe the feeling coursing through him as that coil releases. He can't say anything but Wendy's name, and he feels as though maybe it's too good to be true. Maybe he's still back in Neverland, and he's dreaming.

But when the initial intensity subsides, and he has the strength to open his eyes, he knows every bit of it was real. He groans softly, running his hands over his face and leaning up to kiss his love. His hands are sore. She wraps her arms around his neck and whispers in his ear, "I love you more than anything my Peter, and I'm coming back to Neverland with you."

He laughs in exhausted excitement, squeezing her tighter and burying his face in her hair. Then he realizes something is dripping down his stomach.

"What's that?" he looks down, trying not to panic, because he knows Wendy must have an explanation to what this peculiar milky substance is. He's seen it before, woken up with it on his leaves. The first time he saw this he bathed in the water and wouldn't get out until he knew it was gone. But soon he just started to ignore it, cleaning himself off and going about his usual day. Never had it happened while he was awake.

"Semen," she chuckles. "It comes out when you come."

He remembers what she said. "Whats that? What do you mean when I come?"

"It's a verb, a word to describe having an orgasm." She sighs, knowing he doesn't know what a verb is, but Peter chooses to ignore that part of her answer. "And semen is the stuff that comes out when you do. It's the stuff that made the baby," she adds.

He shrieks, hurriedly wiping it off of himself as if it were poison, causing Wendy to topple off his lap and collapse on the bed. He runs across the room and opens her wardrobe, retrieving a washroom cloth and scrubbing it off of himself as best she can.

"It's not going to hurt you!" Wendy says impatiently.

"But it made the baby!" he answers, finally satisfied and dropping the towel in her laundry bin. "I'm not taking anymore chances." Wendy rolls her eyes. Not just because he doesn't know what he's doing, but because she's come to love their child more than anything, and Peter still sees it- him- as a mistake, or an accident. Well...he was...but a lovely accident that she wouldn't take back if she could.

Peter sits down next to her, finally calm. "What?"

"It can only make a baby if it reaches the egg inside of me. Those two things are what makes a baby, without the egg nothing will happen and you don't need to be afraid of it." She says to him, quite nearly fed up with explaining the simplicity of reproduction.

"Where's your egg?" Peter asks softly, feeling quite ignorant with himself. He doesn't want to ask questions because it's embarrassing for him to not know things, and his pride is his greatest quality. But he must know.

Wendy points down, down to where he was when they made love. "Up there," she explains. "And since there's already a baby growing from the egg that your semen touched, there are no more eggs coming out to where the semen can get them, so it's okay if we make love," she says. She feels as though she could explain it to him more intelligently, but she must try to make this easy for him. He nods in understanding, taking her hand in his and stroking the back of her hand with his thumb.

"Thank you," he whispers. To this, she's surprised.

"For what?"

"Being so patient with me, I know I never went to school like you did. I just know what's in my heart," he says, his voice soft. He won't meet her eyes.

She sighs, "Your heart is pure, and I love you dearly. I'll always be patient with you, even when it's hard." He grins slightly.

"Kiss me," he says to her, looking up at her. She happily obliges, and they fall into each other, making up for the last few months they had been apart. This time, Peter runs his hand over her stomach lovingly.

"I'm so scared, but I can't help but love him," he whispers against her lips. "I want to make a good life for him. I want to make him happy."