Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1055095.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Once_Upon_A_Time_-_Fandom
  Relationship:
      Captain_Hook/Peter_Pan, captain_pan_-_Relationship
  Character:
      Peter_Pan, Captain_Hook_|_Killian_Jones
  Additional Tags:
      Mentions_of_Emma_and_Mila
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-11-22 Words: 3033
****** Trust Is love ******
by felix_pan
Summary
     The thing Killian always liked about Pan, is that he was always
     ready. Always there, even when he’s not. Always will be there, but
     hidden. In Neverland, you were never truly alone, even if you think
     you are. Always watching, always waiting, always ready.
The thing Killian always liked about Pan, is that he was always ready. Always
there, even when he’s not. Always will be there, but hidden. In Neverland, you
were never truly alone, even if you think you are. Always watching, always
waiting, always ready.
 
But that’s the thing Pan always liked about Killian. He knew he was there,
always watching. He knew about the lack of privacy in Neverland. But he seemed
not to care. When Killian first came to Neverland, he was uptight, scared,
under rule. In other words, Neverland changes you.
 
And that lack of self control brought him here. Hook walk through the brush of
the forest, trying to get away from ‘group savior’. He could slap himself for
agreeing the help save Henry. He knew the chances of getting him alive were
little to nothing, knowing Pan wanted him. What Pan wants, Pan gets, end of
discussion.
 
Hook grumbled to himself about his own stupidity, pulling out his flask. The
rum tasted sweet, compared to his too bitter thoughts. He kept walking till his
feet began to hurt and his mind buzzed.
 
He should probably get back to the group, but just sitting here and drinking
seemed like a better idea. He should probably get back to Emma, but drinking
still beat that thought. Emma has Neal, so it wouldn't matter if he stayed
there or not. Emma still is in love with Neal, and Neal is still in love with
Emma. The thought of anyone being in love made Killian sick. Why could everyone
else have it, except him? His one love was ripped away from him by that
crocodile. He thought maybe Emma would be his savior, but of course he was
wrong. Always wrong. Now Hook isn’t one to wallow in his self pity, but self
loathing is another story.
 
“Jeez Captain, I can hear your self pity all the way from my camp.” The voice
was smug, so it could be no one else but Pan. You could practically hear his
grin and he leaned against a tree, looking satisfied.
 
"What do you want, Pan." Killian didn’t even look up, he kept his eyes on the
flask in his hand. He could be seriously shit faced drunk right now and
imagining Peter, but sadly, he knew he wasn’t.
Peter lifted himself from the tree and walked over. “I couldn’t think straight
with all these cries of despair and woe.” Pan mocked, kneeling in front of
Hook. He wanted to make sure Hook looked at him, cause once you do, you won’t
want to look away, and Killian knew that from experience.
 
Killian snorted, dancing the flask between his fingers. Pan’s offensive
comments couldn’t even try to bother him. “Despair and woe? We both know that’s
something I don’t do.” He said with a slight chuckle.
 
Peter put his hand on Hook’s leg, just below the top of his boot, his slender
fingers wrapping around. Killian stopped the small gasp before it came out from
the sudden contact. His eyes slowly trailed up the boys youthful frame, taking
in the view in front of him.
”We both know that’s not true now Captain.” That devilish smile crept across
his face as their eyes met.
Peter waited for a response, but he is not very patient. His hand crawled up
the pirates leg, only making it to about mid thigh before and hook slapped down
on it. He dropped his head and grinned.
"So, who is it? Who are you so bent and beat up over, hm?" Pan hummed, curling
his fingers into a fist. He raised an eyebrow at the pirate, who was still
looking at his hand.
 
"I don’t know what you’re talking about." Hook protested, giving Pan a blank
expression. Pan scuffed.
"Oh come on, I promise I won’t tell!" He batted his eyelashes playfully. Peter
quick grabbed the flask from his hand and then placed it back, it was cool at
the touch, full with rum again.
 
“A bribe? Really? I’m not that easy, sorry mate.” Hook muttered, unscrewing the
cap and reluctantly drank. It burned going down his throat, but rum was rum and
drunk was better than sober right now.
 
Peter snatched the flask from his hands, “Ah-ah, nope. You’re not getting
trashed while I’m here.” He rubbed the cool dented metal with his thumb before
stuffing it in his pocket.
 
“Now how about that gal? Hm, can’t be Meliah cause she’s been dead too long.
Surprised you even remember her actually.” Peter snickered, his eyebrows
knitted together in false concentration.
Hook cringed at her name. How dare he even utter her perfect name off his
sinful lips. He snatched the boy’s tattered shirt by his hook, pulling him so
close that he could feel Pan’s breath across his face.
“Don’t you ever speak of her.” It meant to come out sharp and cursing, but it
came out tired and weak.
Peter put his hands up in defense, giving that innocent look. He eyed the cold
hook that just barely grazed his neck, leaving a red stripe. His eyes flicked
from Killian, then back to the hook, giving a sinister look that meant no good.
He didn’t even have to say anything and Killian understood why he was here. No.
He wasn’t falling into this trap again. But oh how he wanted to. He wanted to
do all the thing he could never do with Emma, or Mila. And Peter would let him.
But he could not fall into temptation again
Killian snapped his hook away, shoving it down to his side, cursing to himself.
Hook stayed silent, thinking maybe if he just gives the silent treatment, the
boy will get bored and walk away. But this is Peter Pan for christ sake,
persistent little bastard.
Peter rocked back on his heels, thinking. The look of concentration faded from
his face and was replaced with that wicked grin. He shot up to his feet,
shoving his hands in his pockets. Pan rubbed his thumb along the sleek metal of
the flasking, feeling the engraving on the front. He pulled it halfway out of
his pocket but quickly shoved it back in instead before it was seen.
“Okay then, I guess. I’ll just go ask Emma and ‘group get-along” then.” Peter
smirked, turning on his heel. He swung his hips away he walked away, twirling
the flask between his long fingers. It was only a matter of time.
 
“Wait, don’t.” Killian could almost hear Pan’s grin. Peter stopped, waiting for
a beat, then turning around, not even trying to hide his smug face.
 
“Oh?”
 
“It was Emma.” Hook confessed. He knew he had nothing to lose to Pan anymore,
for he probably already knew. Of course Pan already knew about Emma and the
kiss and the echo cave, because he did it. He made this sick twisted game.
 
“That’s more like it Hook,” Peter gave a sly smile before disappearing. The
pirate held his breath, knowing the boy was just appear again. And he did,
inches from him.
 
“I think I might know a way to make you forget all about that blonde bitch.”
Peter stated, it almost sounding like a promise.
Hook actually thought about it for a second. Pan’s face was barely inches away
from his, eyes wide and curious. His breath was hot on his neck as he tilted
his head and closed his eyes. He thought he won. That easily. Did Hook really
look that desperate? But yet he didn’t push him away.
“I don’t think so, boy.” Hook barely managed to sputter out. Usually Pan would
get angry if Hook called him a child, but he didn’t. He just kept going. Peter
brushed his smooth cheek along the pirates scruff. His eyes fluttering, he
inhaled the scent of rum and fresh earth, an effect of Neverland.
Pan’s wet lips ghosted over Hook’s bare neck, waiting as his breath tortured
his skin. “I could make you forget all about this saviour, I could make you
feel good.” Peter whispered, his voice like silk.
And that he could. He’s done it before. When Milah died, Hook returned to
Neverland, and Pan was there.Something about him was so charming, so seductive,
so magical, that Hook could never say no. He was so enticing, mesmerizing, and
just enough to get you drunk off his smile. He moved the right way, and said
the right things, for Hook atleast. Wasn’t this the reason Killian came into
the forest in the first place? To hell if he can remember. All he can breath,
smell, and see is Peter right now. It might be wrong to drown his sorrows in a
boy, but when is he ever right? Why change now?
 
“Aye, too right.” Hook drew out, his voice unexpectedly husky.
 
Killian wrapped his hooked arm around the boys small waist, pulling him in,
already able to feel his heat on his thigh. Peter gave a muffled laugh as he
placed wet kisses along his neck. Pan bit, hard, just above his collar bone,
definitely leaving a mark. He quickly attended the mark by sucking a purple
bruise on top of it.
Killian rolled his hips, needing to feel something. He heard Peter gasp, his
lips parting on his neck. Peter responded well, pushing Hook against the tree,
grinding into his, smashing their lips together. Hook kissed back feverishly,
his hand tangled in the boy’s blonde locks, and his hook digging into his side.
He knew Peter didn’t mind, he probably liked it, from past experience.
“Wait,” Hook murmured, removing his hand from the boy’s hair and placing it on
his too clothed chest. Peter sighed, his lips kiss bruised red, cheeks flushed.
 
“What?” Pan said, his voice irritated.
 
“I don’t want them to come looking for me and see this.” Killian replied,
looking anywhere but Pan’s face.
 
“You mean you don’t want Emma to see this.” Pan retorted, raising an accusing
eyebrow.
 
“Aye, smart kid.” Killian replied, giving Peter a soft kiss.
 
Peter rolled his eyes and grabbed his face, pulling him back in. The atmosphere
felt different. It was much warmer than the forest. It smelled of cinnamon and
burning wood, like Pan. Hook opened his eyes, taking in the sight around him.
It was obviously a tree house. A nice one at that. The walls were all clean
wood, clearly worked on with care. The room was a bit bare, besides a desk
filled with papers, feathers, and jewels. There was a small window on the roof,
exposing moonlight into the room, only lit by the fire that was keeping the
warmth. In the corner was a huge bed, much too big for just Peter himself.
 
“This yours?” Killian said, a bit breathless. Peter tried hiding the curl of
his lips, but it didn’t work very well.
 
“Yes. I trust you… enough to be here at least.” Pan stammered, biting at his
bottom lip, his hands gripping onto Hook’s leather coat.
 
“I like it.” Killian added. Peter grinned, pulling him by his coat, lips
connecting again.
 
Peter took his bottom lip between his teeth, pulling and biting, before
soothing it with a hot lick. Killian let out a quiet moan, and spun them around
so Pan’s back was facing the bed. He walked them over until the back of Pan’s
knees hit the edge. Killian put his hand on Peter’s chest, pushing him down
onto the enormous bed.
 
Peter looked up at him, eyes wide with a mixture of lust and curiosity. His
lips were red, his cheeks flushing pink, and sweat beaded across his forehead,
dampening his hair. The sight was breath taking. How could such an evil,
demonic boy be so beautiful, so blissed out, and vulnerable? This was the Peter
Killian wanted, the Peter Killian needed
 
“Peter…” Killian gasped, moving his hand down the boy’s chest with fascination.
Peter looked at Killian, studying his face. Neither had to finish the sentence.
Pan slowly pulled off Hook’s jacket, tossing it to the ground. Peter skimmed
his hands down Killian’s arms, feeling like feathers. His fingers laced with
Killian’s. His other hand grabbed the hook and twisted it out, setting it on
the dresser. Peter’s gentleness was almost like a sign of trust to Killian, or
even worse, love.
 
Killian crawled over Peter, leaning down to nip at his ear, licking and sucking
at the earlobe. Peter squirmed beneath him, pulling his legs up and wrapping
them around his waist, pulling him closer. Killian took this as an advantage,
and ground down, meeting the boys need with his own.
 
Peter moaned, his eyes squeezed shut and his mouth open, gasping. “Too many
clothes. Off.”
 
Killian did as told. His hand moved to find the hem of the boy’s shirt. He
quickly pulled it off over his head, tossing it aside, landing on top of his
leather coat. He stared down as his youthful porcelain skin. He was much more
built than Hook thought he was with those rags on. He grazed his hand down the
smooth skin, feeling over the abs. Peter looked up, giving a sly wink.
Peter's slim fingers worked with the lace of his vest. Killian reached around
to help, pulling that suffocating cloth away. Peter was so close to just
tearing the baggy white shirt off, but pulled it off over his head. His cheeks
burned as he stared at the man’s bronzed chest, obviously worked on. Pan
started planting wet kisses from his love bite from earlier, along his chest,
nipples, and all the way down Killian’s happy trail. He dipped his hands below
his waist band, feeling his heat. Killian shivered from the sudden contact.
Killian couldn’t wait anymore. His hands worked at the string holding Pan’s
pants. Pan lifted his waist up, wiggling out. He sighed relief, finally free of
the cloth restriction. Killian wrapped his hand around the boy’s length, which
was never disappointing. Peter moaned, bucking his hips up. He stroked slowly,
loving seeing the boy writhing by his hand. Peter put his legs back up in his
constrictor like grip around Killian’s waist. He thrusted up, meeting Hook with
each stroke. Pan dragged his nails across the pirate’s back, definitely leaving
marks for tomorrow.
“Killian!” Peter whimpered, desperately sucking and biting at his neck. Killian
swiped his thumb along the slit on the head, smearing the precome. The words
coming from Peter’s mouth where almost enough to get Hook to come in his own
pants.
Peter put his hand on Killian’s. “Wait. Pants. Off.” He demanded, catching his
breath, chest heaving. Killian didn’t need to be told twice. His unlaced the
front, and pulled the leather off, tossing behind him. He moaned, letting his
hardness spring free, stroking himself. Peter gave him a few heated kisses on
his raw lips. He took Killian’s hand, sticking his fingers in his mouth,
licking around and coating them in spit.
Killian marveled at him. “Are you sure?” He said, looking into Peter’s dark
lustful eyes. They never went all the way like this. Usually is was just a
quick make up and grind session or a hand or blow job here and there in the
forest. Nothing like this. Suddenly, Killian felt scared and embarrassed. He’s
haven’t had anything like this since Milah.
Peter cupped Killian’s trembling face in his hands and nodded, squeezing him
with his legs. He kissed his lips lightly, closing his eyes.
Killian rubbed outside Pan’s entrance, before putting a digit in. He waited
till Peter adjusted around him, which was fast.
“Come on, I’m not a nun. More.” Peter groaned, squirming beneath him. Killian
did as told, adding another. He started scissoring his fingers opening him up,
feeling the boy clench around him.
“Fuck.. don’t Ah!, stop, don’t stop!” Peter moaned, arching his back off the
bed, grabbing as the sheets, anything. His hands found Killian’s need, jerking
him fast, and heated.
Killian pulled his fingers out, knowing he was ready. “Spit.” He held out his
hand to the boy’s mouth, but instead, peter twisted around, and pulled out the
drawer in the nightstand. He dropped a bottle in Hook’s hand.
“I hope you know what to do with that.” Pan murmured, tangling his hands in
Killian’s hair. Killian chuckled and popped the cap off. He squeezed a generous
amount into his hand, and slicked himself, making sure he kept eye contact with
the boy beneath him. Peter’s eyes were lidded, fighting to stay open, but then
shot wide at the cool gel wetting his entrance. Killian aligned himself, and
pushed in slowly, making sure he was careful with it. Peter let his head fall
on Hook’s shoulder, biting at the skin. Killian waited till he was adjusted,
feeling Peter tight around him. Peter nodded, holding back a moan.
Hook thrusted harder and fast with each movement. He rolled his hips, shifting
to a better angle for both of them. Peter squeezed his eyes shut, his mouth
hanging open, panting.
“Ah, Killian, fuck. There! Oh god, please don’t stop. Fuck, Killian!” Peter
screamed, thrusting his hips down, meeting Killian with perfect rhythm.
 
“I’m close.” Peter moaned, stroking himself and pulling hard on Killian’s hair.
“I know baby.” Killian hummed, closing his eyes and placing kisses down Peters
chest. Baby? Where did that even come from? Kilian didn’t care, he could think
about it tomorrow.
 
Peter’s eyes were watering as he cried out Killian’s name, reaching his climax.
White ribbons splayed out between their stomachs. Killian rocked in and out
slowly, filling Peter up. Peter’s head fell back onto the pillow, tears visibly
staining his pink cheeks. Killian pulled out, and grabbed his shirt, cleaning
up most of the aftermath between them, not that he minded.
 
Killian layed next to him, and like it was instinct, Peter curled up into his
side, pulling his arms around. Hook brushed his damp blonde locks away from his
forehead, replacing it with kisses. Petter hummed, kissing the pirate’s
knuckles as he laced their fingers together.
 
“How curious
that I,
looking at you,
am thinking
exactly
what you,
looking at me,
are thinking
and yet…
we both
cannot understand.”
—T.K.G
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