http://all-butone.livejournal.com/ (
all-butone.livejournal.com) wrote in
tampered2007-01-26 10:39 pm
Log; Complete
When; January 19th, after this
and this.
Rating; PG-13 for mild innuendo
Characters;
ironhook Jas Hook &
all_butone Peter Pan
Summary; Yet another thrilling adventure involving manly wrestling, swordfights, bloodshed, and a pirate's mental imagery of a young boy in some uncompromising positions.
Log;
The morning hadn't started off right. Peter had always been extraordinarily perceptive about such things and as such, since he'd woken up he hadn't been sure what to expect. He hadn't planned on seeing Smee of all people- much less had he expected to hear the news he did. Peter had spent the better part of the day trying to make sense of what, exactly, was happening.
And then, suddenly, without warning, after the threats from he and his captain, after the prompting to fight and the prying for answers about flying- the pirate had mentioned James. Which did nothing short of shooting liquid fire through his blood. Then- to add insult to injury, the man had refused to tell him where James was, that he needed to talk to him about it first;
ridiculous!
James was his friend, why wouldn't James want to see him? And now that Hook was involved...
Brows furrowed as the boy crossed his arms. He hated waiting, and the anticipation of battle was singing in his veins. Hook better not take much longer.
--
Had he known what Pan was thinking, Jas Hook would have agreed. Although, for him, the day had started out fairly decently, considering the scare Smee had given him just the other day. Fighting Pan-- what the Hades was he thinking of? Nobody, save himself, could even hope for any kind of victory when crossing blades with the brat. And he had managed to stop that from happening, though it had taken a bit of work. And then-- curse his good form-- Jas had thought it necessary to go and meet the bo--
No. No he wasn't thinking of that. He had more important things at hand here. Like the fact that, somehow, Peter had connected Smee to James Matthew, and thus himself to the Oppidan too. Jas had no idea how he was going to handle this-- but a fight was as good a way as any. Although something felt different today, aside from the static of murder on the air. A faint stirring in the back of his mind, light and mischevious, lingering tauntingly on the edge of his thoughts where he couldn't quite decipher what it meant. Thus, when he arrived, his sword was already drawn, shoulders tense with anticipation.
--
"You took long enough."
The undercurrent of anger was undeniable- and yet, the accusation was devoid of the boy's typical goading lilt. Not a conscious decision, but something instinctual. Peter had been seeking James out for so long, and there were so many unanswered questions and thoughts and ...fears, and finally, finally, he'd found a means to reach the boy. Only to have the way blacked by none other than his one great enemy. There was no doubt that a fight was unavoidable, but Peter wasn't above offering the man one last chance to escape.
Peter was frustrated. The boy had come to his wits end searching till exhaustion for this one boy only to risk letting him slip through his grasp. No. Tonight, if Hook chose to stand in his way, Peter would not hold back.
"Where is he Captain?"
--
Hook stopped a few paces away and regarded the fairy child quietly for a moment, taking in his stance, his expression, his tone of voice. Nothing Jas hadn't seen before, but somehow, it seemed more personal this time. Which, in a way, it was. But he recognized the question as his final chance to back out and reveal everything. And, for a fleeting moment, he was almost tempted.
Then he mentally slapped himself and lifted his chin, as well as the tip of his blade. No. Pan couldn't know the truth, for both their sakes. It was best for him to think the boy dead, or gone. Things were already complicated enough as it was. "I told you before," He replied, condescending and bitter, "I killed him."
----
Before, when the pirate had first insisted that James was dead- the admission had stopped him cold. Because before, everything had been so frightfully unclear and Peter couldn't bring himself to make sense of anything, much less examine it to begin with.
Standing in Xanadu at nightfall, body stiff from a mixture of overexhertion and a lack of fitfull sleep- the boy didn't know how to explain it but he knew something had changed. Valerie perhaps, had been the strongest influence, the one that made his fuzzy, uncertain thoughts become clear and real. The unshakable affermation that James was not dead no matter what his nemeis would say. Now, instead of being frozen in place, it sparked something inside him, and the boy let out a defiant yell as he charged forward, sword aimed for the man's throat. "Liar!"
---
What startled him the most was not the shout, but the fact that Peter went directly for his neck on the first strike. They both knew it was the most vulnerable place, and both aimed for the spot often, but it was extremely rare for Pan to fly into such a state to skip all foreplay and leap straight into the climax of their fights. It was extremely rash, and a little clumsy, Jas noted.
He side-stepped, steel lifting to all but tap aside Pan’s blade, turning to follow the child’s location when he charged passed. Then he settled into the en-garde position, hook held aloft, sword angled out in front of him. And there Jas canted his head, almost thoughtfully. “Yes, I suppose you are right.” He conceded, and without waiting for the boy to attack again, feinted towards him, knowing he would take the bait, “I didn’t do it all by myself.”
Which was the truth. It hadn’t just been he who had ‘killed’ that little boy. In a way, he had been slowly but surely tortured to death by the events that had occurred, the people he had met. The fire at Eton had only been the beginning.
--
How many times had they had this argument? The same commentary, James was dead, Hook was his murderer- though the boy knew it was false it did nothing to dissuade the flare of anger that surfaced. Eyes gleaming, he'd anticipated the dodge but done nothing to counter it. Peter whirled quickly, turning to face his opponent with a growl. "Liar!" he repeated, lashing out once more at the more than tempting lure. He was being taunted, in more ways than one, and the pirate had finally struck one nerve too many.
"He isn't dead, we both know it!" The neck blow aimed for the man's chest- an attack that would easily be deflected, but it didn't matter. Swordplay was simply a means to an end, a confrontation without surprises, without tangled results. At least...usually. Peter's jaw clenched at the memory- warm body and a mast... he shook his head.
Another lunge and the clang of swords, eyes narrowed definantly. "Why try to take the credit? Besides, even if you manage to kill him before I find him- do you think I won't bring him back? You think I wouldn't make another deal and trade my life for his?" A smirk played on his lips, daring the man to challenge his word.
----
Pan's words sent a chill straight into the pit of his stomach, and where Jas had appeared vaguely amused a moment ago, the look all but vanished from his face. He shoved against the boy's weapon, unlocking their blades, and went for him with new intent, the clash of steel echoing under starlight.
"You can't bring something back that has been destroyed," James said, and though there was fire in his words, in each flex of his arm to attack and counter, he sounded-- suddenly-- extremely calm, like each word was said with clear purpose. More serious then their usual banter-- but Hook didn't really notice. His right hand entered the fray, catching and knocking away a swipe from his rival that came too close.
--
"I have before" he said simply, voice evening out as confidance replaced rage and Peter pushed away to reach for the small dagger at his side. "I can do it again." The smirk itself had faded into an easy smile as he lept forward once more, dagger meeting hook as his sword aimed for the pirate's side.
"You think death could keep him from me?" It was almost laughable to him. Yes, he lost his flight and he was growing up and he was no longer in his Neverland, but all of that could be overcome. He was Peter Pan, and for him, nothing was not possible. What he couldn't understand however, was why the man seemed so insistant on the idea that the boy was dead anyway. "Why the lies Hook? Are you -afraid- of him?"
--
"I fear nothing," The man exploded, sudden rage and biting jealousy turning his eyes red. Afraid of the boy? No. He wasn't afraid of him. He hated him, in a way, because that child was everything he had lost. And wasn't it ironic that Pan should be so like to him? A representation of everything he had once, and had since lost. Everything he could never have again.
The thoughts rang hard and deep, whispering cruelly in the back of his mind, and with a snarl, he attacked with an abrupt new malevolence. He shifted his weight, his plan of attack, and for a moment was a whirlwind of steel and iron. The hand holding the dagger was knocked aside, hard, with the guard of his right fore-arm, both hook and sword used to slide against Pan's blade and send the point angling upward. He ducked, pivoted, and lashed out with his left hand, bringing the sharp of his weapon down sideways across the forever boy's ribs.
---
It was too sudden, the change, and though Peter had half-anticipated and half-hoped for a response, the ferocity was a shift that had been too radical to predict. In the seconds before he struck the boy had seen the forget-me-nots fade and he'd seen the spark of scarlet- but not soon enough. Peter had barely managed to tighten his grip in an effort not to have both weapons knocked loose entirely, but it was a high price to pay. Caught unguarded and off balance, the sword met it's target and sparks of red clouded his vision. "Nnh-ah!"
The whimpered cry broke loose on contact and the boy's eyes squeezed tightly shut in an attempt to block out the fire lancing up his side. Too close. He'd been careless and let Hook get too close.
--
Now, it wasn't as if Jas hadn't caught Pan off guard before, snuck passed his defenses and injured him. In fact, he had even heard the child cry out in reaction to such attacks before. But this time it caught him completely off guard, and he froze, eyes blown wide and staring at the expression on the boy's face.
Kimono open, slender back arched, mouth slack, hand vanished between the smooth of his thighs--
Heat surged, unbidden, like a lance through the man's body, and he reeled out of shock by its intensity. Not that it hadn't surprised him the first time, but before the other night Jas had never even considered hearing that sound in that context. And now, having it repeated, it distracted him like nothing else ever had. The tip of his blade dropped a good five inches, the captain's guard gone completely.
--
Peter swallowed hard and his jaw clenched once more in an attempt to regain focus. He'd been wounded before, as his body bore dozens of pale scars from their various encounters. Still, the inital pain was always a shock- though apparently moreso to his opponent...
Green eyes opened and furrowed slightly in confusion. He'd expected another blow or at the very least, a jeer about his poor form and yet for some reason or another, Hook looked entirely bewildered. Sword lowered and eyes wide? Odd or not, Peter was not one to quabble where victory was concerned, and eyes narrowed in their focus as his grip on the dagger tightened. Without a second thought, the boy lunged, moving in close to stand nigh pressed against the other's chest- one arm wrapped around the fresh wound on his side while the other pressed the blade of the knife to Hook's throat. Chin nearly level with the man's shoulder, breath came in heated puffs against the other's skin as a triumphant smirk played on his mouth. "You're mine."
--
Jas reeled again when Pan was suddenly far far too close for comfort. The boy flush against his chest with nothing but the circle of his arm between them, and only because he was clutching his wound. Breath left him in a rush as the dagger curved against his throat, but once again, and he shouldn't have been surprised, all it did was send another bolt of heat straight into his gut. And once more the pirate was reminded of changes in the City, as even with his chin lifted against the press of that short blade, he didn't have to look down half as much as he had to before.
And then Pan spoke, with that cocky little grin in place, and Jas found himself thinking, Yes, before all synapses had finished firing. He froze, breath held, entirely motionless and praying to whatever god or devil would listen that the now-teen would not push in any closer, and that they would kindly return normal function to his body so he could get the hell out of there.
--
He could feel the man's pulse quicken and the way his chest seemed unsure as to whether the pirate couldn't catch his breath or perhaps it wished to stop breathing alltogether. The procession caught his attention and for a long moment, the forever boy simply remained still, almost studiously observing the reaction. Was it the way all grown adults behaved when a knife was to their throat? Peter himself had certainly never reacted that way. Which mean maybe it was fear...but Jas Hook was afraid of nearly nothing- least of all a death threat. Not when they both knew the sentence wouldn't be carried out.
Why the reaction then?
It wasn't something he could recall ever seeing the captain do before, and that made it all the more mystifying. The boy's head tilted a fraction, an unconscious demonstration of curiosity before he took a half step backwards, knife lowering as he examined the man. There was no longer a need to be defensive afterall, he's already won- shoulders relaxed and muscles lost their tension as he sheathed the blade once more. "You're acting strange."
--
Why wasn't he moving? He had won that little round, fine. Why wasn't he backing off? It wasn't like this was the first time they were locked so close, but the pirate was hyperaware of the earth-sun scent of the boy, and the warmth of his skin where it met, and the brush of his breath across his jaw, and he really, really needed to move before Jas did something--
Involuntarily, he exhaled heavily, as though he had been punched in the chest, ridiculously relieved when Pan finally put distance between them. Still, he couldn't get his limbs to work, and had a feeling that if he tried to bolt as he intended, his legs might give out on him. Taking a deep breath he closed his eyes a moment, which didn't work as he intended, because then all he saw was tanned skin against bedsheets and that was even worse then looking at the perplexed child before him.
Jaw locking, his eyes flashed open and he forced himself to take a single unsteady step backwards. "I'm sick," He answered quickly, blurting out the first thing that came to mind, his tone defensive and his eyes guarded.
===
Hook, he decided, was a terrible liar.
He looked...Peter paused, circling the man in an attempt to understand what had transpired because he knew that something had happened. That was a sigh of relief a moment ago, that much the boy was sure of. But relieved at what?
Peter stopped infront of the pirate once more, leaning forward as his brows creased thoughtfully. It was confusing, and though he'd never been all that good at reading people, in years passed he'd considered himself an expert on Jas Hook. With the hint of a frown, the boy realized he'd been beaten again. "Sick?" It was an alien concept because no one ever got sick in Neverland, only pretend sick, and even then, only when Peter said so. But this was the City, he remembered, and the rules were different here. "Then you need medicine. That's what Wendy always said, that you take medicine when you're sick and it makes you all better." The boy's head canted and realization moved slowly over his face. "But you aren't really sick, are you?" The words were soft, but offered no room for contest.
---
"I am," Just not the sick you're thinking of. He finished mentally, and took another step backwards when Pan leaned in. Didn't he have any concept of personal space? To which his ever-so-helpful inner voice answered him with the negative. Neither of them had any concept of personal space, at least not when it came to each other. There was no need for it.
At least there hadn't been before that curse day. Jas stepped back again and sheathed his sword to free his hand, tugging his tunic down agitatedly. Right now there was a definite need for personal space.
---
The first step of retreat had piqued his interest, the second and third left him deliciously curious and a touch puzzled. Green eyes took a moment to look the man over, as if searching for any clues that he could possibly be mistaken, but he found none. Say what he wanted, Hook was -not- sick. Strange, but not sick.
Peter took two steps forward- refusing to allow the man any sort of leverage he may try to gain by putting space between them. "No." He declared simply, brows arched as jade met forget-me-not and his voice was more bewildered than taunting. Surely he couldn't be.... "...Are you...running?"
--
"Running?" He repeated. Why, yes, he was, actually, though he wasn't about to admit it right away. Not verbally, at least. It was pretty obvious, however, by the way his eyes flicked to and from the jade eyes gazing curiousily at him, looking for a path of escape. Which was proving difficult, because Pan kept stepping after him, and really, it was terribly distracting, because he had to keep at least a pace away.
Otherwise this whole situation would become even more embarrasing then it already was.
--
"Yes, running." Whether or not he got the confirmation made little difference, judging by his actions alone it was obvious the man was backing away. Peter wasn't sure whether he was more amused or surprised by the idea. Jas Hook, was actually...retreating. From him.
Though the garden's wall was not far behind and if the captain continued his back-stepping he'd soon run out of room to go. Peter almost smirked and took another step forward. Whatever it was about their proximity was suddenly bothering his nemesis, and the boy had every intention of exploiting the weakness to it's fullest. "Where do you plan to run, James?" The name came out a slow drawl, mischief glinting in his eyes.
--
Pan stepped again, and Jas mirrored the movement. He wasn't watching where he was going, didn't even think of looking behind him, actually, and was once again distracted from his goal as the wild child drawled his name that way, all but purred it with that mischevious sparkle he had. And why, Lucifer, why was that suddenly a cause for another pulse of heat through his body? Before it would have done nothing but goad him into attacking!
He huffed, glanced into the boy's face, then away again. The captain was starting to look almost like a cornered animal, although less like a wildcat and more like a deer caught with an arrow pointed at it. His mouth opened, ready to give another excuse, or some kind of half-assed explaination, but his tongue had gone dry and all he could do was swallow against it and tug on his tunic again.
---
The boy's gaze followed from Hook's nervously darting eyes to the tug on his clothing and the hint of a smirk bled into a fully fledged smile. There was a strange feeling of power that came with the response he'd managed to full from the pirate. Sure, he'd had victories in the past, but nothing that had left that came close to this. Peter was very near laughing, electricity tingling under his skin as he took the last remaining steps to seal the captain's fate. To leave him with no where left to run.
"Well?" It was the sweetest purr he could manage, and made ever the more innocent by his near obliviousness to it. "What are you going to do now?"
--
James startled when he backed into the wall, but instead of pushing away and running as someone in their right mind would have, the pirate flattened himself back against the wall. The move was completely counter productive to what he wanted to do, which was flee, but Pan had successfully cornered him, and taken his full attention by smiling that way and talking in that tone of voice. And the worst of it was that Jas didn't think the boy knew what he was doing at all.
"Stop right there," He ordered, because Pan was still a pace away, and the distance was all he could focus on right at that moment.
--
He almost chuckled, the hint of a laugh leaving his lips as he arched an eyebrow at the comment. A command? Surely the pirate didn't mistake him for one of the members of his crew because Peter Pan had never and would never settle for being ordered about. "No." The boy answered, almost scoffing at the notion itself as he closed the distance between them.
Peter didn't know what game they were playing or how he would claim final victory, but it was obvious that he was winning, and that's all that mattered.
--
Something close to panic made Jas' heart jump into his throat when the boy stepped forward again, and reflexively Jas' arms jerked up. His left hand hand gripped the fairy child's hip, the wooden base of his hook mirroring the gesture by pressing tight against the opposite side, effectively halting Peter from closing that last inch between them. It stopped the boy from easing flat to his chest, but that meant little at the moment. He was close enough that Jas could nearly taste each breath the boy exhaled, and even though his palm was not flat to Pan's skin, he could pratically feel the sun-warmth of his flesh.
A breath stuttered from his mouth, a shiver chasing a spike of arousal down his spine, forget-me-nots sharp on his rival's face. It wasn't unusual for his stare to be intense on Peter Pan, but the heat in his eyes was noticably different this time.
--
It was a game...wasn't it? Another of their trivial competitions over something or other and when green eyes had caught the sudden start of moment he'd anticipated a blow to follow. He'd expected to narrowly dodge another sudden gash to his side but it was not the hook that first reached him, but warm fingers resting firmly on the arch of a hip before cool iron did the same. It was a more than effective way to win Peter's attention and his gaze immediately sought out blue eyes- seeking a confirmation, an explination as to why the rules had just changed and what was taking place now.
An answer for why his breath had been all but stolen from his throat.
For the first time he could truly recall since his flight to Neverland, the boy felt trapped. Pinned beneath an icy hot stare and Peter froze, mouth falling open a fraction in surprise and uncertainty. What was...what was going on now?
--
So now he was uncertain, was he? The thought was idle, somewhere in the back of his mind, because the boy's mouth had gone slack and though the movement was minute, it caught the captain's attention like a cat was drawn to a shining ornament. The fingers of his left hand curled slowly, tightening on Peter's hip, his thumb unconsciously tracing the hidden scar there. He swallowed again and dragged his eyes up from the boy's lips and back to the shine of his jade eyes, but still he said nothing. He didn't need to, or didn't know what he should have been saying. It was hard to think of anything when the small space between them was as charged as it was.
--
He couldn't breathe. His chest wasn't moving, lungs wouldn't draw air, and for the life of him Peter couldn't bring himself to jerk away. Everything had slowed down, each detail more pronounced until the boy was made painfully aware of the gentle touch, Hook's thumb grazing the one scar that had nearly ended his life. It wasn't like him, to be rendered so entirely motionless, entranced, and he didn't know why.
It had only recently become easier to ignore it, to shake off the distraction- whatever it was, that had dulled his senses and left him dazed and slow whenever the man was near. He'd made a mess, he'd ruined him and now Peter feared he may never be able to put all of the pieces back together.
Sheer force of will made him swallow and never once did his gaze stray from the man's face. It was a grown up something- and Peter pleaded that he would do something, anything, to let him move again. To break him free of whatever trap he'd stumbled into- filled with warm fingers and heated stares.
--
He wasn't sure what it was that stirred him from the trance, and thinking of it later he wouldn't be able to figure it out either. It might have been the way Peter pleaded silently at him with those eyes, or the way he had gone so still with the almost-soft touch, or maybe it was the slowburn heat that pooled in his chest, that wasn't arousal, but something heavier. Whatever it was, it clicked in the back of his mind, and James took a slow, deep breath, tasting morning wind and sunrise.
"Go," He whispered, and his grip gentled on Peter's hips, not quite letting go, but loose enough that the boy could pull away if he chose. This was up to the forever boy, how this would end. But if he didn't listen, didn't leave now-- James wasn't sure what he might or might not do. "Please."
--
The words were softer than he'd expected. Almost as gentle as the suddenly featherlight touch on his hip and equally as sudden, Peter was able to breathe again. Eyes shut tightly in an attempt to make the world right itself before opening again- the trance effectively broken. Hook was being generous enough to allow them both a way out, an escape from whatever fate this duel had planned.
Peter stepped backwards, eyes widening as he tried to make sense of it all but couldn't. A dozen unspoken questions lingering between them as he seized the opportunity to flee without a word, turning on his heel and racing away, desperate to be out of reach and out of sight of whatever spell Jas Hook had worked on him.
and this.
Rating; PG-13 for mild innuendo
Characters;
Summary; Yet another thrilling adventure involving manly wrestling, swordfights, bloodshed, and a pirate's mental imagery of a young boy in some uncompromising positions.
Log;
The morning hadn't started off right. Peter had always been extraordinarily perceptive about such things and as such, since he'd woken up he hadn't been sure what to expect. He hadn't planned on seeing Smee of all people- much less had he expected to hear the news he did. Peter had spent the better part of the day trying to make sense of what, exactly, was happening.
And then, suddenly, without warning, after the threats from he and his captain, after the prompting to fight and the prying for answers about flying- the pirate had mentioned James. Which did nothing short of shooting liquid fire through his blood. Then- to add insult to injury, the man had refused to tell him where James was, that he needed to talk to him about it first;
ridiculous!
James was his friend, why wouldn't James want to see him? And now that Hook was involved...
Brows furrowed as the boy crossed his arms. He hated waiting, and the anticipation of battle was singing in his veins. Hook better not take much longer.
--
Had he known what Pan was thinking, Jas Hook would have agreed. Although, for him, the day had started out fairly decently, considering the scare Smee had given him just the other day. Fighting Pan-- what the Hades was he thinking of? Nobody, save himself, could even hope for any kind of victory when crossing blades with the brat. And he had managed to stop that from happening, though it had taken a bit of work. And then-- curse his good form-- Jas had thought it necessary to go and meet the bo--
No. No he wasn't thinking of that. He had more important things at hand here. Like the fact that, somehow, Peter had connected Smee to James Matthew, and thus himself to the Oppidan too. Jas had no idea how he was going to handle this-- but a fight was as good a way as any. Although something felt different today, aside from the static of murder on the air. A faint stirring in the back of his mind, light and mischevious, lingering tauntingly on the edge of his thoughts where he couldn't quite decipher what it meant. Thus, when he arrived, his sword was already drawn, shoulders tense with anticipation.
--
"You took long enough."
The undercurrent of anger was undeniable- and yet, the accusation was devoid of the boy's typical goading lilt. Not a conscious decision, but something instinctual. Peter had been seeking James out for so long, and there were so many unanswered questions and thoughts and ...fears, and finally, finally, he'd found a means to reach the boy. Only to have the way blacked by none other than his one great enemy. There was no doubt that a fight was unavoidable, but Peter wasn't above offering the man one last chance to escape.
Peter was frustrated. The boy had come to his wits end searching till exhaustion for this one boy only to risk letting him slip through his grasp. No. Tonight, if Hook chose to stand in his way, Peter would not hold back.
"Where is he Captain?"
--
Hook stopped a few paces away and regarded the fairy child quietly for a moment, taking in his stance, his expression, his tone of voice. Nothing Jas hadn't seen before, but somehow, it seemed more personal this time. Which, in a way, it was. But he recognized the question as his final chance to back out and reveal everything. And, for a fleeting moment, he was almost tempted.
Then he mentally slapped himself and lifted his chin, as well as the tip of his blade. No. Pan couldn't know the truth, for both their sakes. It was best for him to think the boy dead, or gone. Things were already complicated enough as it was. "I told you before," He replied, condescending and bitter, "I killed him."
----
Before, when the pirate had first insisted that James was dead- the admission had stopped him cold. Because before, everything had been so frightfully unclear and Peter couldn't bring himself to make sense of anything, much less examine it to begin with.
Standing in Xanadu at nightfall, body stiff from a mixture of overexhertion and a lack of fitfull sleep- the boy didn't know how to explain it but he knew something had changed. Valerie perhaps, had been the strongest influence, the one that made his fuzzy, uncertain thoughts become clear and real. The unshakable affermation that James was not dead no matter what his nemeis would say. Now, instead of being frozen in place, it sparked something inside him, and the boy let out a defiant yell as he charged forward, sword aimed for the man's throat. "Liar!"
---
What startled him the most was not the shout, but the fact that Peter went directly for his neck on the first strike. They both knew it was the most vulnerable place, and both aimed for the spot often, but it was extremely rare for Pan to fly into such a state to skip all foreplay and leap straight into the climax of their fights. It was extremely rash, and a little clumsy, Jas noted.
He side-stepped, steel lifting to all but tap aside Pan’s blade, turning to follow the child’s location when he charged passed. Then he settled into the en-garde position, hook held aloft, sword angled out in front of him. And there Jas canted his head, almost thoughtfully. “Yes, I suppose you are right.” He conceded, and without waiting for the boy to attack again, feinted towards him, knowing he would take the bait, “I didn’t do it all by myself.”
Which was the truth. It hadn’t just been he who had ‘killed’ that little boy. In a way, he had been slowly but surely tortured to death by the events that had occurred, the people he had met. The fire at Eton had only been the beginning.
--
How many times had they had this argument? The same commentary, James was dead, Hook was his murderer- though the boy knew it was false it did nothing to dissuade the flare of anger that surfaced. Eyes gleaming, he'd anticipated the dodge but done nothing to counter it. Peter whirled quickly, turning to face his opponent with a growl. "Liar!" he repeated, lashing out once more at the more than tempting lure. He was being taunted, in more ways than one, and the pirate had finally struck one nerve too many.
"He isn't dead, we both know it!" The neck blow aimed for the man's chest- an attack that would easily be deflected, but it didn't matter. Swordplay was simply a means to an end, a confrontation without surprises, without tangled results. At least...usually. Peter's jaw clenched at the memory- warm body and a mast... he shook his head.
Another lunge and the clang of swords, eyes narrowed definantly. "Why try to take the credit? Besides, even if you manage to kill him before I find him- do you think I won't bring him back? You think I wouldn't make another deal and trade my life for his?" A smirk played on his lips, daring the man to challenge his word.
----
Pan's words sent a chill straight into the pit of his stomach, and where Jas had appeared vaguely amused a moment ago, the look all but vanished from his face. He shoved against the boy's weapon, unlocking their blades, and went for him with new intent, the clash of steel echoing under starlight.
"You can't bring something back that has been destroyed," James said, and though there was fire in his words, in each flex of his arm to attack and counter, he sounded-- suddenly-- extremely calm, like each word was said with clear purpose. More serious then their usual banter-- but Hook didn't really notice. His right hand entered the fray, catching and knocking away a swipe from his rival that came too close.
--
"I have before" he said simply, voice evening out as confidance replaced rage and Peter pushed away to reach for the small dagger at his side. "I can do it again." The smirk itself had faded into an easy smile as he lept forward once more, dagger meeting hook as his sword aimed for the pirate's side.
"You think death could keep him from me?" It was almost laughable to him. Yes, he lost his flight and he was growing up and he was no longer in his Neverland, but all of that could be overcome. He was Peter Pan, and for him, nothing was not possible. What he couldn't understand however, was why the man seemed so insistant on the idea that the boy was dead anyway. "Why the lies Hook? Are you -afraid- of him?"
--
"I fear nothing," The man exploded, sudden rage and biting jealousy turning his eyes red. Afraid of the boy? No. He wasn't afraid of him. He hated him, in a way, because that child was everything he had lost. And wasn't it ironic that Pan should be so like to him? A representation of everything he had once, and had since lost. Everything he could never have again.
The thoughts rang hard and deep, whispering cruelly in the back of his mind, and with a snarl, he attacked with an abrupt new malevolence. He shifted his weight, his plan of attack, and for a moment was a whirlwind of steel and iron. The hand holding the dagger was knocked aside, hard, with the guard of his right fore-arm, both hook and sword used to slide against Pan's blade and send the point angling upward. He ducked, pivoted, and lashed out with his left hand, bringing the sharp of his weapon down sideways across the forever boy's ribs.
---
It was too sudden, the change, and though Peter had half-anticipated and half-hoped for a response, the ferocity was a shift that had been too radical to predict. In the seconds before he struck the boy had seen the forget-me-nots fade and he'd seen the spark of scarlet- but not soon enough. Peter had barely managed to tighten his grip in an effort not to have both weapons knocked loose entirely, but it was a high price to pay. Caught unguarded and off balance, the sword met it's target and sparks of red clouded his vision. "Nnh-ah!"
The whimpered cry broke loose on contact and the boy's eyes squeezed tightly shut in an attempt to block out the fire lancing up his side. Too close. He'd been careless and let Hook get too close.
--
Now, it wasn't as if Jas hadn't caught Pan off guard before, snuck passed his defenses and injured him. In fact, he had even heard the child cry out in reaction to such attacks before. But this time it caught him completely off guard, and he froze, eyes blown wide and staring at the expression on the boy's face.
Kimono open, slender back arched, mouth slack, hand vanished between the smooth of his thighs--
Heat surged, unbidden, like a lance through the man's body, and he reeled out of shock by its intensity. Not that it hadn't surprised him the first time, but before the other night Jas had never even considered hearing that sound in that context. And now, having it repeated, it distracted him like nothing else ever had. The tip of his blade dropped a good five inches, the captain's guard gone completely.
--
Peter swallowed hard and his jaw clenched once more in an attempt to regain focus. He'd been wounded before, as his body bore dozens of pale scars from their various encounters. Still, the inital pain was always a shock- though apparently moreso to his opponent...
Green eyes opened and furrowed slightly in confusion. He'd expected another blow or at the very least, a jeer about his poor form and yet for some reason or another, Hook looked entirely bewildered. Sword lowered and eyes wide? Odd or not, Peter was not one to quabble where victory was concerned, and eyes narrowed in their focus as his grip on the dagger tightened. Without a second thought, the boy lunged, moving in close to stand nigh pressed against the other's chest- one arm wrapped around the fresh wound on his side while the other pressed the blade of the knife to Hook's throat. Chin nearly level with the man's shoulder, breath came in heated puffs against the other's skin as a triumphant smirk played on his mouth. "You're mine."
--
Jas reeled again when Pan was suddenly far far too close for comfort. The boy flush against his chest with nothing but the circle of his arm between them, and only because he was clutching his wound. Breath left him in a rush as the dagger curved against his throat, but once again, and he shouldn't have been surprised, all it did was send another bolt of heat straight into his gut. And once more the pirate was reminded of changes in the City, as even with his chin lifted against the press of that short blade, he didn't have to look down half as much as he had to before.
And then Pan spoke, with that cocky little grin in place, and Jas found himself thinking, Yes, before all synapses had finished firing. He froze, breath held, entirely motionless and praying to whatever god or devil would listen that the now-teen would not push in any closer, and that they would kindly return normal function to his body so he could get the hell out of there.
--
He could feel the man's pulse quicken and the way his chest seemed unsure as to whether the pirate couldn't catch his breath or perhaps it wished to stop breathing alltogether. The procession caught his attention and for a long moment, the forever boy simply remained still, almost studiously observing the reaction. Was it the way all grown adults behaved when a knife was to their throat? Peter himself had certainly never reacted that way. Which mean maybe it was fear...but Jas Hook was afraid of nearly nothing- least of all a death threat. Not when they both knew the sentence wouldn't be carried out.
Why the reaction then?
It wasn't something he could recall ever seeing the captain do before, and that made it all the more mystifying. The boy's head tilted a fraction, an unconscious demonstration of curiosity before he took a half step backwards, knife lowering as he examined the man. There was no longer a need to be defensive afterall, he's already won- shoulders relaxed and muscles lost their tension as he sheathed the blade once more. "You're acting strange."
--
Why wasn't he moving? He had won that little round, fine. Why wasn't he backing off? It wasn't like this was the first time they were locked so close, but the pirate was hyperaware of the earth-sun scent of the boy, and the warmth of his skin where it met, and the brush of his breath across his jaw, and he really, really needed to move before Jas did something--
Involuntarily, he exhaled heavily, as though he had been punched in the chest, ridiculously relieved when Pan finally put distance between them. Still, he couldn't get his limbs to work, and had a feeling that if he tried to bolt as he intended, his legs might give out on him. Taking a deep breath he closed his eyes a moment, which didn't work as he intended, because then all he saw was tanned skin against bedsheets and that was even worse then looking at the perplexed child before him.
Jaw locking, his eyes flashed open and he forced himself to take a single unsteady step backwards. "I'm sick," He answered quickly, blurting out the first thing that came to mind, his tone defensive and his eyes guarded.
===
Hook, he decided, was a terrible liar.
He looked...Peter paused, circling the man in an attempt to understand what had transpired because he knew that something had happened. That was a sigh of relief a moment ago, that much the boy was sure of. But relieved at what?
Peter stopped infront of the pirate once more, leaning forward as his brows creased thoughtfully. It was confusing, and though he'd never been all that good at reading people, in years passed he'd considered himself an expert on Jas Hook. With the hint of a frown, the boy realized he'd been beaten again. "Sick?" It was an alien concept because no one ever got sick in Neverland, only pretend sick, and even then, only when Peter said so. But this was the City, he remembered, and the rules were different here. "Then you need medicine. That's what Wendy always said, that you take medicine when you're sick and it makes you all better." The boy's head canted and realization moved slowly over his face. "But you aren't really sick, are you?" The words were soft, but offered no room for contest.
---
"I am," Just not the sick you're thinking of. He finished mentally, and took another step backwards when Pan leaned in. Didn't he have any concept of personal space? To which his ever-so-helpful inner voice answered him with the negative. Neither of them had any concept of personal space, at least not when it came to each other. There was no need for it.
At least there hadn't been before that curse day. Jas stepped back again and sheathed his sword to free his hand, tugging his tunic down agitatedly. Right now there was a definite need for personal space.
---
The first step of retreat had piqued his interest, the second and third left him deliciously curious and a touch puzzled. Green eyes took a moment to look the man over, as if searching for any clues that he could possibly be mistaken, but he found none. Say what he wanted, Hook was -not- sick. Strange, but not sick.
Peter took two steps forward- refusing to allow the man any sort of leverage he may try to gain by putting space between them. "No." He declared simply, brows arched as jade met forget-me-not and his voice was more bewildered than taunting. Surely he couldn't be.... "...Are you...running?"
--
"Running?" He repeated. Why, yes, he was, actually, though he wasn't about to admit it right away. Not verbally, at least. It was pretty obvious, however, by the way his eyes flicked to and from the jade eyes gazing curiousily at him, looking for a path of escape. Which was proving difficult, because Pan kept stepping after him, and really, it was terribly distracting, because he had to keep at least a pace away.
Otherwise this whole situation would become even more embarrasing then it already was.
--
"Yes, running." Whether or not he got the confirmation made little difference, judging by his actions alone it was obvious the man was backing away. Peter wasn't sure whether he was more amused or surprised by the idea. Jas Hook, was actually...retreating. From him.
Though the garden's wall was not far behind and if the captain continued his back-stepping he'd soon run out of room to go. Peter almost smirked and took another step forward. Whatever it was about their proximity was suddenly bothering his nemesis, and the boy had every intention of exploiting the weakness to it's fullest. "Where do you plan to run, James?" The name came out a slow drawl, mischief glinting in his eyes.
--
Pan stepped again, and Jas mirrored the movement. He wasn't watching where he was going, didn't even think of looking behind him, actually, and was once again distracted from his goal as the wild child drawled his name that way, all but purred it with that mischevious sparkle he had. And why, Lucifer, why was that suddenly a cause for another pulse of heat through his body? Before it would have done nothing but goad him into attacking!
He huffed, glanced into the boy's face, then away again. The captain was starting to look almost like a cornered animal, although less like a wildcat and more like a deer caught with an arrow pointed at it. His mouth opened, ready to give another excuse, or some kind of half-assed explaination, but his tongue had gone dry and all he could do was swallow against it and tug on his tunic again.
---
The boy's gaze followed from Hook's nervously darting eyes to the tug on his clothing and the hint of a smirk bled into a fully fledged smile. There was a strange feeling of power that came with the response he'd managed to full from the pirate. Sure, he'd had victories in the past, but nothing that had left that came close to this. Peter was very near laughing, electricity tingling under his skin as he took the last remaining steps to seal the captain's fate. To leave him with no where left to run.
"Well?" It was the sweetest purr he could manage, and made ever the more innocent by his near obliviousness to it. "What are you going to do now?"
--
James startled when he backed into the wall, but instead of pushing away and running as someone in their right mind would have, the pirate flattened himself back against the wall. The move was completely counter productive to what he wanted to do, which was flee, but Pan had successfully cornered him, and taken his full attention by smiling that way and talking in that tone of voice. And the worst of it was that Jas didn't think the boy knew what he was doing at all.
"Stop right there," He ordered, because Pan was still a pace away, and the distance was all he could focus on right at that moment.
--
He almost chuckled, the hint of a laugh leaving his lips as he arched an eyebrow at the comment. A command? Surely the pirate didn't mistake him for one of the members of his crew because Peter Pan had never and would never settle for being ordered about. "No." The boy answered, almost scoffing at the notion itself as he closed the distance between them.
Peter didn't know what game they were playing or how he would claim final victory, but it was obvious that he was winning, and that's all that mattered.
--
Something close to panic made Jas' heart jump into his throat when the boy stepped forward again, and reflexively Jas' arms jerked up. His left hand hand gripped the fairy child's hip, the wooden base of his hook mirroring the gesture by pressing tight against the opposite side, effectively halting Peter from closing that last inch between them. It stopped the boy from easing flat to his chest, but that meant little at the moment. He was close enough that Jas could nearly taste each breath the boy exhaled, and even though his palm was not flat to Pan's skin, he could pratically feel the sun-warmth of his flesh.
A breath stuttered from his mouth, a shiver chasing a spike of arousal down his spine, forget-me-nots sharp on his rival's face. It wasn't unusual for his stare to be intense on Peter Pan, but the heat in his eyes was noticably different this time.
--
It was a game...wasn't it? Another of their trivial competitions over something or other and when green eyes had caught the sudden start of moment he'd anticipated a blow to follow. He'd expected to narrowly dodge another sudden gash to his side but it was not the hook that first reached him, but warm fingers resting firmly on the arch of a hip before cool iron did the same. It was a more than effective way to win Peter's attention and his gaze immediately sought out blue eyes- seeking a confirmation, an explination as to why the rules had just changed and what was taking place now.
An answer for why his breath had been all but stolen from his throat.
For the first time he could truly recall since his flight to Neverland, the boy felt trapped. Pinned beneath an icy hot stare and Peter froze, mouth falling open a fraction in surprise and uncertainty. What was...what was going on now?
--
So now he was uncertain, was he? The thought was idle, somewhere in the back of his mind, because the boy's mouth had gone slack and though the movement was minute, it caught the captain's attention like a cat was drawn to a shining ornament. The fingers of his left hand curled slowly, tightening on Peter's hip, his thumb unconsciously tracing the hidden scar there. He swallowed again and dragged his eyes up from the boy's lips and back to the shine of his jade eyes, but still he said nothing. He didn't need to, or didn't know what he should have been saying. It was hard to think of anything when the small space between them was as charged as it was.
--
He couldn't breathe. His chest wasn't moving, lungs wouldn't draw air, and for the life of him Peter couldn't bring himself to jerk away. Everything had slowed down, each detail more pronounced until the boy was made painfully aware of the gentle touch, Hook's thumb grazing the one scar that had nearly ended his life. It wasn't like him, to be rendered so entirely motionless, entranced, and he didn't know why.
It had only recently become easier to ignore it, to shake off the distraction- whatever it was, that had dulled his senses and left him dazed and slow whenever the man was near. He'd made a mess, he'd ruined him and now Peter feared he may never be able to put all of the pieces back together.
Sheer force of will made him swallow and never once did his gaze stray from the man's face. It was a grown up something- and Peter pleaded that he would do something, anything, to let him move again. To break him free of whatever trap he'd stumbled into- filled with warm fingers and heated stares.
--
He wasn't sure what it was that stirred him from the trance, and thinking of it later he wouldn't be able to figure it out either. It might have been the way Peter pleaded silently at him with those eyes, or the way he had gone so still with the almost-soft touch, or maybe it was the slowburn heat that pooled in his chest, that wasn't arousal, but something heavier. Whatever it was, it clicked in the back of his mind, and James took a slow, deep breath, tasting morning wind and sunrise.
"Go," He whispered, and his grip gentled on Peter's hips, not quite letting go, but loose enough that the boy could pull away if he chose. This was up to the forever boy, how this would end. But if he didn't listen, didn't leave now-- James wasn't sure what he might or might not do. "Please."
--
The words were softer than he'd expected. Almost as gentle as the suddenly featherlight touch on his hip and equally as sudden, Peter was able to breathe again. Eyes shut tightly in an attempt to make the world right itself before opening again- the trance effectively broken. Hook was being generous enough to allow them both a way out, an escape from whatever fate this duel had planned.
Peter stepped backwards, eyes widening as he tried to make sense of it all but couldn't. A dozen unspoken questions lingering between them as he seized the opportunity to flee without a word, turning on his heel and racing away, desperate to be out of reach and out of sight of whatever spell Jas Hook had worked on him.
