This really is an M rating, isn't it? I've tried to keep it innocent but I'm having a hard time drawing a line in the sand. I'm going for more coming of age than outward smut, but you know... it's all in good fun.

As the moon did rise, the air became frosted. All around, Peter could see the flowers sleeping. Seeing an opportunity to please Wendy, he picked handfuls of the flowers and took to decorating her little house with them. He had never been in someone else's Neverland, as he always was so good at luring them to his, but he resolved that it was only fair. When he truly began to shiver, Wendy's wolf emerged to keep him warm. Tucked in her warm fur, he took to fashioning himself a row of pipes. To the wolf's dismay, it led to Peter pipping on his pipes for the remainder of the night. The wolf clamped its ears to its head, quite annoyed at this guest.

Wendy, oblivious to Peter's trapped position, went about her day quite in a daze. It was mid-summer and she should be about having fun with her brothers, but she felt distant from them. It felt… as if she had no space in her head for games. She could not however hard she tried, shake the memory of Peter's hungry kisses. She was absolutely smitten with his regular ones, but that one dark kiss lingered malignantly in her mind. To her dismay, it made her nerves tingle with anticipation. She was not even sure if she wanted to sleep that night. She pondered her dilemma as she entered her bedroom that evening and it was with a start that she saw her bed was already occupied. Peter, pipes in hand, lay sleeping on her bed. She grimaced as she saw his dirty feet lazily strewn upon her clean white sheets. Pan had lulled himself to sleep with his soft pipping, and tumbled out of Wendy's Neverland. Struck by the reality of him, she quietly tiptoed her way towards him. His eyes were still, as if no dreams played behind them. To see if he really, truly was there she brushed his arm with the back of her hand. She jumped a bit as she half expected him to be pretend, but his skin was warm, and he was very real. So, their kisses had been real, too, in a way. The thought made her a bit ashamed as she knew mother would certainly not approve of her doing so. A soft murmur escaped him and she suddenly saw his eyelids flutter with dream, but the knotting of his brow suggested it was no dream, but a nightmare. She had held him often when he had bad dreams and she did not hesitate now pull him close to her now, and hushed his moaning. She gently led him out of his nightmare and his eyes opened lazily, casting a hardened stare in her direction. She did not look at him, for she was so shy at seeing him in person after all their frolicking about.

"Wendy?" He called lazily, tempting her gaze in his direction. She locked eyes with him and a sudden feeling of belonging course through her.

"Yes, Peter?" She whispered back.

"Is it alright if… this is not pretend, now, is it?" He asked confused, still groggy from sleep.

"No, Peter, this is not pretend."

"Should we make it so?" He asked, a bit frightened by the concept of reality.

"I suppose so. I should really get to sleep." She reasoned. He looked down at her in her stuffy English clothes. He had to admit, he felt she looked becoming wearing anything. Then the thought of her naked form flushed his mind.

"You're not dressed for sleep."

"No… but you see, it's not proper." She gazed to the nightgown on her chair.

"I won't look." He said convincingly. She released her hold on him and made her way nervously to her boudoir. Casting back glances at him she saw that he was indeed looking. Ashamed she looked away, beginning to unfasten her dress. Surely, now he could not be looking. She peeked in his direction timidly. His eyes were steadfast in her direction, not even flinching as she caught him in his lie. Peter never really had any intention not to look. It was his Wendy, after all. Looking quite red and bare she stared at the safety of the corners of the room and stripped quickly, giving Peter a very limited view of her naked skin. He watched as she pulled her nightgown over her head and over those curious looking breasts. She made her way, then back to her bed. She shuffled herself beneath the covers and she tucked him in also, as it was her habit, and he so loved to be tucked.

"Goodnight, Peter." She said. Although she really did not know if she would sleep, for her heart had began stammering in her chest at his closeness.

"Goodnight, Wendy." He said, snaking an arm over her waist. He pulled her closer to him and she felt his leaves crinkle on her back.

Now, she fixedly tried to fall asleep, she put in great efforts. Her eyes were clamped shut, her breathing, she forced to slow (which led her to gasp quite suddenly as she really needed her breath at the moment). All in all, it was completely pretend sleep, as her thoughts were racing wildly and she dejectedly was not tired in the slightest. But Peter was convinced, and after only ten minutes of her pretend, he began to play coyly with the fabric of her night shirt. She could not see, but he was staring at her fixedly, looking for any sign that she might wake up. He did note the rapid throbbing of her neck. Growing braver, he flattened his palm on the warmth of her stomach and pressed his mouth against the back of her shoulder. His eyes closed and he began to forget himself as he pressed little kisses on her shoulder. Her eyes flew open, and her stomach flipped as she recognized the reality of a boy holding her to him and kissing her shoulder quite lovingly. There would be no flying away from this, and mother was really just downstairs. She could feel Peter's breathing becoming labored, and his hand mischievously climbed up her stomach to rest on her sternum. His kisses turned dark and he hungrily kissed at the flesh of her neck where her pulse was fluttering unhinged. Now Peter had completely forgotten that they were meant to be sleeping and moved his hand to knead the flesh of her breast quite unwittingly. Wendy gasped as she felt his hips press to hers, and begin a slow grinding.

"Oh, Peter!" She gasped, pushing his hips away from hers, for she had grown quite hot there. He stopped, suddenly embarrassed. He reached down to cover himself as he had forgotten about his 'pouch full of kisses', and it was now terribly afflicted.

"Wendy…" he began. Should he apologize? Was there something to apologize for? "Do you not like my kisses?" He asked, feeling a bit rejected. She could not lie, for she wickedly did indeed like his kisses.

"Oh, no, Peter… I'm just…" She could not finish, because she could not find the words. "I really must be getting to sleep." She reasoned. Peter nodded, he remembered now that he had become quite heated lying next to her.

"You sleep, then." He said softly. Peter gestured her to bed and she crawled in quite willingly. He tucked her in, as she had tucked him and gazed lovingly down at her.

"Good night, Wendy." He said.

"Good night, Peter." She replied. He kissed her forehead softly as he knew someone had done to him years ago (although he really could not recall), but naughtily he was not satisfied and kissed her deeply on the lips. He pulled away and he laughed to himself as he found that Wendy's face quite willingly followed his in attempt to prolong the kiss. He stared at her, heavily for a bit as she stared at him with wonder, and he turned towards the window and took off for home.

I really would like some feedback, even if I am selfish for wanting it now. I want to know if people are enjoying reading this as much as I am enjoying writing it. Big plot twist coming up, though. I hope you're ready to be shaken up.