The Longwinded Ramblings of a Semi-Insane Genius

When in L.A. (and pretending to be in Rome...)

Sun, 16 Aug 2009 02:17:13 GMT

Title: When in L.A. (and pretending to be in Rome)…
Pairing: William Moseley/ Skandar Keynes, implied Ben Barnes/ Anna Popplewell
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Sigh, it’s a long smutty oneshot, just like everything else I write. Maybe I should branch out more.
Summary: Involves roleplay and sex in a semi-public place. Please comment and enjoy! P.S. try to be nice, am just getting back into the swing of things!

William Moseley smiled as he sat in the pool bar eating overpriced French fries and people watching the pair of blonde girls (in ridiculously small bikinis) who were trying to pick up the lifeguard with little success.

Next to him, Skandar set down the list of reporters he was supposed to meet with a cheery disposition on Monday with a derisive snort. “I don’t know how much more I can take of this.” He complained. “There were eight this morning Will, eight!”

Will felt unmoved. “So what?” He asked. “When we were doing the press circuit for Prince Caspian that would have been slow as mornings went.”

Skandar’s nose wrinkled and he stole the plate of fries from Will. “Yeah but I didn’t have you to do all the talking for me this time, I had to think for myself.”

“Ooh, hardship.”

“I’m serious Will. They weren’t just the little ten minute things we’ve got for the first half of next week, there were alse the great hour-long things they chop up for their TV specials.”

Will frowned and tore his eyes away from the girls who had now progressed to trying to give the lifeguard their phone number to look at Skandy through his sunglasses; he did look a little tense. He stole the fries back. “Even still, it’s not like you couldn’t have anticipated this. It’s 2010’s big Christmas blockbuster, it’s only natural that people should be interested.”

Skandar seemed to be getting frustrated. “Yes, but every other question I get is about us. It’s like the fact that I’m actually a main character in this film’s gone out the window in favour of asking me which side of the bed you sleep on!” Will let him rant, he knew how annoying this could be after the Ironclad promo loop and it was clearly something he needed to get off his chest. His boyfriend calmed down a little and changed the subject. “So anyway, are we going to this party tonight or not?”

Will shrugged and fixed his eyes on Skandar. “That depends entirely on whether you’re still trying to get me in a little leather skirt.”

The brunette huffed. “Oh for God’s sake Will, it’s really not that big a deal.” His phone rang and he flipped it open, mouthing ‘Georgie’ at the blonde’s confusion. “Hiya… no, we’re in the pool bar at the moment, you want to come and join us? … fair enough… no, no luck yet, he’s being an idiot about it. D’you want to try?” Will held out his hand for the mobile, expecting a lecture, but the phone remained glued to Skandar’s ear and he smirked across the table at his boyfriend. “She doesn’t love you enough, sorry.” Will pretended to sulk. “So what’s happening then? … right… right… ok…” Skandar’s nose wrinkled in disgust. “Trust me George, that will never work. Not in a million years.”

“Can you put her on speakerphone?” Will asked.

Skandar grinned at him and sipped his coke. “Can, but wont. No not you Georgie, you’re fine. Will’s getting nosy, that’s all.” He grimaced. “Do I have to?.. fine, fine, I’ll be up there in a minute but remember the deal we made – she’s not going anywhere near my hair.” He snapped the phone shut and stood up from the table. Will thought he looked tired. “I’m being summoned.” He announced. “Georgie wants me to come and tell her how gorgeous she looks and Anna doesn’t seem to think that four hours will be enough to get me ready for tonight.”

Will started to get up as well, knowing how much Skandar hated going into the lionesses’ den alone. “Should I come too?”

“No,” Skandar said “I don’t think you should. We’re making preparations for the party that you’re not going to at the moment so you’d probably get very bored.”

Will was surprised at the note of resentment in his boyfriend’s face as he disappeared back into the hotel. He hadn’t thought that this party meant all that much to him, they usually didn’t. If anything Will usually had to drag Skandar out kicking and screaming, so what was different now? It suddenly occurred to him that this might have been Skandy’s way of blowing off steam from the publicity trail and he kicked himself mentally with more than a pang of guilt and wondered if he should chase after the boy and strike some sort of deal. He decided against it, turning his attention back to the film script in his lap that he was supposed to have been reading for the last hour and tried to convince himself that what he was doing was in no way chickening out. William Moseley never backed down from a challenge.

He read a few pages but found his mind elsewhere, specifically in a room about six floors up where Skandar would by now be hugging Georgie in his usual awkward way and trying to convince her that no one thought she had bad legs while Anna fussed with the girl’s hair. He was spared having to make any further pretence of being productive by someone throwing themselves into the chair next to him, grinning broadly.

“Cheer up William, it might never happen.”

Will put his head in his hand. “You’re not helping Ben.”

The older man put a hand on his shoulder comfortingly. “Sorry mate, what’s wrong with you then?”

“Skandar’s upset with me because I’m not going to this party tonight.”

Ben looked horrified. “You’re not going? But Will, this is the party of the season! Most of young Hollywood will be there and you won’t be? That’s suicide. What possible excuse can you come up with for not being there?”

He toyed with the idea of lying and telling Ben that he was ill for a moment but gave up on the idea. It was best to just be in one person’s bad books per day. He sighed and braced himself for laughter. “Skandar’s got it into his head that I’m either going as a gladiator in a little leather skirt” he made little flappy motions at his hips “or I’m not going at all. What I can’t see, and more importantly what he won’t tell me, is why on earth I can’t just go in a toga like every other man at the party.”

Ben tried his very best to look solemn. “Because my dear William, you would look like the angel Gabriel got tangled up in his bedsheets.” Will huffed and pushed his sunglasses up his nose. Ben continued. “I have to say though Will, I’m on Skandar’s side on this one.” Will looked at him incredulously. “Oh come on, like he hasn’t told you about that dream he had.”

He straightened in his chair. “What dream? He’s said nothing about a dream to me.”

Ben groaned and rolled his eyes. “He was supposed to tell you last night. Never mind, I suppose you can here it from me. You know how he spent his 18^th birthday right?”

Will nodded. “In your trailer getting very, very drunk while I was on the other side of the planet if memory serves.”

“Quite right. Well after about the seventh shot he started blabbering on about this dream he’d had the night before that involved himself in ancient Rome as a nobleman and yourself as a gladiator.”

Will felt his cock twitch, he did love role playing. “And did you manage to extract any details from him on the subject or am I supposed to go in there blind and just hope for the best?”

Ben pretended to think. “That could be amusing.”

Will growled at him.

“To be honest with you I didn’t get much of what he was saying after that, I was trying to block it out for the most part. I did however gather that he quite liked being ravaged by said gladiator and that his wake up call had arrived before he’d managed to get to the good stuff.” The brunette wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and Will found himself laughing, his friend always knew how to diffuse a situation.

“So all of this is a ruse for Skandar getting me to dress up and take him roughly from behind.”

Ben reached over and stole his drink. “Essentially yes, none of us were going to be going to this party before he worked out what the theme was. When we were in New Zealand the idea was to go paintballing.”

Will nodded, his stomach doing funny little jitters that made him feel pathetically young. He got up from the table and stuffed the half-read script into his bag.

“Where are you going?” Ben asked.

The blonde smiled brightly at him. “To indulge Skandar’s wishes. Just rest assured Barnes, if you’re pulling my leg on this one you will suffer greatly.”

Ben smirked and threw his hands up in surrender. “Received and understood Blondie. Just remember tonight who put you up to this.”

****************************

Will looked around the Ballroom frantically for any hint of Skandar for the eighth time that minute. He had been right in his assumption that he would be the only gladiator there and felt far too hot under all the leather. Around him, senators and goddesses with varying degrees of skirt length took drinks and nibbles from the trays of passing ‘slaves’ while the band played quietly in the corner. More than once so far this evening he had been tempted just to run for it, uncomfortable under the appreciative gaze of so many of his contemporaries (some of whom he had been utterly convinced were straight until he’d caught them staring) and it had only been Ben at his side, pouring liquid courage down his throat that had stopped him from bolting when he first came in.

He excused himself from the group he was standing with and headed for the bathroom, noticing shadowy little alcoves along the way that already had couples hiding in them.

By the time he came back the gang had arrived and Georgie had got down to interrogating the buffet table. He slipped his arm around a smirking Skandar and allowed himself to be passed another drink. “I feel like everyone’s staring at me.” He muttered.

“Oh, they are.” His boyfriend assured him with a kiss on the cheek. “It’s quite amusing really, I hadn’t expected you’d cause this much of a stir.” The band started something more upbeat and Will felt his hand being tugged in the direction of the dancefloor. “Come on, I want to dance.”

He followed reluctantly. “I really don’t want to do this Skan.”

Skandar locked eyes with him seriously. “Will, you’re a gladiator, you’re the lowest rung in Roman society. You risk your life almost daily in practices and matches and at night your master pimps you out to any well-paying citizen who likes the look of you.” He smirked. “You REALLY don’t get an opinion on whether you’re dancing or not.”

Will reminded himself that this was Skandar’s fantasy and gave up fighting him. Struggling to ignore the stares of the rest of the room, he put his hand on the brunette’s shoulder and allowed himself to be lead to the beat.

*************************

It was several hours later when the party was in full swing and quite a lot of champagne had been consumed that Will slipped away for a bit of fresh air. It hadn’t been all that bad really. Once Efron had decided he was too hot and stripped down to his underwear several others had followed suit and he had no longer been the centre of attention.

He found himself passing the little alcoves that the snogging couples had been in earlier and slipped into a vacant one, pulling the curtain across it and plunging himself into darkness. He slid silently down the wall and wondered how long he had before someone came looking for him, probably not long he mused. He hoped it was Skandar who found him so that they could take advantage of this little hiding place, between catching up with friends and undercover paparazzi they’d hardly had a moment to themselves all night.

Footsteps came down the corridor and he held his breath until they passed, going into the toilets down the hall. A moment later they returned and he heard Ben’s voice. “Will? You out here mate?”

He poked his head around the curtain. “Over here.” He hissed.

Ben jogged to meet him and yanked the hanging back. “What the hell are you doing in there?” He asked incredulously.

“Hiding.”

“Who from?”

“Just about everyone in there.” He pointed back at the ballroom.

Ben laughed loudly at him. “Coward.”

Will bristled at the accusation. “Am not, this is a tactical retreat until I can go back in there without my boxers being ripped off or I can slip off to bed. Whichever happens first.”

The brunette rolled his eyes. “Right, ok, I’ll leave you to it. What do I tell Skandar?”

“Tell him I’d like to see him asap. Double points if you can insinuate that I’m mortally wounded.”

Ben nodded and disappeared.

The curtain fell back into place and it was dark again. Georgie had somehow managed to get red wine down her dress about half an hour ago and his boyfriend had instantly offered her the use of his tunic instead which she had gratefully accepted. Skandar maintained that he was trying to be a gentleman but Will had the suspicion that it was intended to wind him up. He thought back to his lover, draped in layers of white cloth that had become looser and looser of their own accord as the night wore on and were now covering barely enough for decency. He felt his boxers grow tighter and the leather breastplate get uncomfortably warm as his cock hardened.

Sometime tonight he would have the pleasure of removing this ridiculous outfit but something told him that it wouldn’t be before they’d had quite a bit of fun in it. He wondered how it would play out. The bed would be the most comfortable option by far and he’d always loved the feel of silk sheets against his skin. On the other hand, Ben had definitely used the word ‘ravished’ so maybe silk and candles were a no-no. His mind wandered further into the depths of depravity and summoned up an image of Skandar tied to the headboard. In his daydream his face was flushed and his breathing laboured, the white cloth bunched around his waist and stained with drops of precome from his straining cock. He shifted uncomfortably against the wall and wondered idly if he should really be thinking about this sort of thing when he could be dragged back to the general population at any moment.

Someone in another alcove moaned and his mind snapped back to Skandar on his bed. What would it take to make his boyfriend moan like that? He imagined himself licking up the length of Skandar’s cock slowly, holding down the boy’s hips to stop him bucking into his mouth. He saw himself sucking gently on the purple head and tasted the salty pre-come on his tongue. Below him Skandar whined and tried to break free from the bindings above his head to no avail. He just smiled and sucked him harder, feeling him getting closer. He waited until the boy was on the verge of coming and then pulled back, relishing the frustrated moan that broke from his lips. Skandar thrashed on the bed, seemingly trying to get friction from the air, and Will held him down again. He put his cock at the young man’s pre-slicked entrance and pushed in torturously slowly, moving back an inch every time his gorgeous brunette tried to push down onto him. Eventually he was fully seated and he waited a moment for his lover to adjust before blue eyes met brown and he started to move. Skandar was hot and tight and he rocked gently at first, mindful of hurting him or making it over too quickly –

Will shook his head in the darkness and cleared the daydream from his mind. This was supposed to be rough and manly and he’d somehow managed to turn it into a bad romance novel in his brain. His boxers were now uncomfortably tight and he shimmied out of them, throwing them into the gloom for someone to find later. He sighed at the release of pressure on his cock and tipped his head back against the wall. Where the hell was Skandar? Even if Ben hadn’t said anything about him being mortally wounded he should be here by now. He shrugged and let it go, if he was dancing with Georgie or Anna it could be quite a while yet longer before they released him.

Even in the darkness he could see his cock making an idiotic tent in the skirt. He rolled his eyes at the effect a couple of glasses of wine and some daydreaming had on him. He tried willing it away with little success and gave up. He lifted up the leather and wrapped his hand around it, biting his lip to stop a groan. He blocked out the thought that he was wanking in what was essentially a corridor and let his eyelids flutter closed. He moved his hand slowly, loosely, careful not to give himself enough attention to risk coming. Frustrating as this might be he really didn’t fancy having to walk back through the hotel with spunk stains on his clothing.

Unbidden, a new image drifted through his brain. This time Skandar was pressed front first up against a wall, his fingers grasping desperately against the brickwork as Will pounded into him from behind. He saw Skandar’s head turn to the side, his cheek pressed up against the wall as he gasped for breath. Will picked up the pace even further and changed his angle slightly so that he was hitting Skandar’s prostate more harshly. One of the brunette’s hands left the wall and moved to his groin and a moment later he was coming with a shudder and his hole became impossibly tight around Will.

William Moseley threw his hand away from his cock to stop himself coming and breathed heavily. Yes, he thought, that would do nicely. Footsteps came racing down the hallway from the ballroom and stopped just outside his hiding place.

“Will? Will where are you?”

The blonde smirked and stood up silently, waiting.

“Will!” Skandar called impatiently. “Oi! Gladiator! Where the hell are you? You get out here right now slave or I’m making sure your next match is against a lion!”

Will rolled his eyes and shot out a hand from the darkness. It wrapped around an arm and he pulled the boy into the alcove. There was a momentary struggle in which Skandar fought and protested before Will got one hand over his mouth and grabbed both of Skandy’s wrists with his other. He held him so that the brunette’s back was at his chest and leaned in towards his ear. “Hush now nobleman,” he muttered “we wouldn’t want anyone to hear you would we?” In the sliver of light coming through from where the curtain hadn’t closed properly at the top he saw Skandar’s face relax. The boy took a couple of deep breaths and shook his head, wide eyes gazing up at him. Will licked a path down the side of his neck and back up again, not missing the shudder that went through the boy in front of him. “Good. Now, I’m going to let your mouth go and there isn’t going to be any screaming understood?” Skandar nodded. “Good boy.”

He let his hand drop from Skandy’s mouth and trailed it down the boy’s side to his groin. He squeezed it gently and was relieved to find it half hard. He slipped it under the toga and squeezed it again, more roughly through the boxers. Skandar gasped.

“What the hell are you doing gladiator?” He hissed.

“Teaching you a lesson, nobleman.” Will growled. “You think that you can just order us around and there’ll never be any consequences. Not so.” He span the boy around and pushed his back up roughly against the wall.

Skandar pretended to struggle as his hands were pinned above his head. “You’ll never get away with this.”

Will pressed their bodies together in the darkness and put his mouth close to Skandar’s ear again. “I don’t think you’re quite so sure about that.” He whispered hotly. “And I’m fairly sure there’s a part of you that wants me to.” He rocked their erections together, a jolt of pleasure going through him. Skandar gasped loudly and William clapped his hand over his mouth again. “Now there’s two ways this can play out Nobleman.” He said. “You can keep fighting me, in which case you’re going to lose, or you can accept this is happening and enjoy it. Either way you need to keep quiet. Understood?”

Skandar nodded and he withdrew his hand again, replacing it with his mouth. He smashed their lips together, forcing his tongue into the smaller man’s mouth. Underneath him Skandar wriggled and he pressed their bodies together even harder to hold him still, rocking their erections together until his naked cock started to chafe against the leather. He released Skandar’s hands and they instantly tangled in his hair as the boy fought to push their tongues back into Will’s mouth. Will indulged him momentarily before pulling his head away and fixing his mouth on the other’s neck. The brunette’s head tipped back against the wall and his breathing quickened as his neck and collarbone were licked and nipped and sucked until the entire area was a blotchy red.

Will stepped back a moment and wrestled the white cloth off Skandar’s shoulders, letting it pool around his feet. Ignoring his own raging erection and his boyfriend’s startled gasp he sank to his knees and pulled the boy’s cock from his boxers. He took the head into his mouth and licked it experimentally. There was a muffled yelp from above him and he looked up to see Skandar’s own hand clamped over his mouth. He nodded approvingly and sucked more of the cock into his mouth, bobbing his head gently. The brunette’s free hand fisted in his hair again, almost painfully this time. Will sped up, using his hands to push Skandar hips back against the wall to stop himself from being choked. Skandar’s legs trembled slightly and Will pulled back before he could come, feeling guilty at the strangled cry coming from his boyfriend. He stood up and offered his hand.

“Come on,” he said “let’s get out of here. We can finish this upstairs.”

Skandar panted against the wall. “We can finish this here.”

Will’s cock jumped and a shot of lust went through him. He blinked rapidly as Skandar rummaged for something in his toga on the floor, sure he’d misinterpreted. “You want to… HERE?”

Skandar shrugged and pressed a tube of lubricant into his hand. “Why not? Don’t tell me the gladiator’s afraid of getting caught?”

Will growled and slammed the boy against the wall again, pressing their lips together. He pulled back and span Skandar so his front was against the wall. The brunette turned his head to the side and braced himself on his hands just as he had in Will’s daydream. The blonde grabbed the younger man’s hips and pulled his arse away from the wall, grinding his cock into it. “You want this?” He hissed. “In here where anyone could hear us?”

Skandar nodded frantically. “Oh God yes. Please Will, do it.”

Will yanked his boyfriend’s underwear down to his feet and helped him step out of it, spreading his legs. He snapped the lube open shakily, coating one finger hastily and pressing it to the hole. It slid in easily; Skandar was still slightly loose from their lovemaking that afternoon. He added another and rubbed them over Skandy’s prostate. Skandar shivered as the pleasure went through him and whispered ‘shit’ into the air.

Will couldn’t wait for a third and slicked his cock up quickly, not trusting his courage to last long enough to prepare his lover further. He tried to push in slowly, letting the incredible tightness consume him gradually but Skandar had other plans. The boy pushed back roughly onto his cock and Will was suddenly enveloped in heat and tightness. His eyes rolled back into his head and he grabbed Skandar’s hips tight enough to bruise as he pounded into him. This seemed to be exactly what his boyfriend wanted however as he pushed back to meet every thrust. Will changed his angle slightly and his cock came crashing into contact with Skandy’s prostate. The latter let out a string of whispered expletives that went straight to Will’s cock as he pounded harder and faster into an even tighter hole.

Wave after wave of pleasure ran through him with every jerk of his hips and he had to physically fight the urge to cry out loudly, constantly aware that there could be someone in the corridor who might hear them. He was at a loss to explain why but the knowledge made him even hornier and he felt a familiar building growing in his stomach what he would later consider to be embarrassingly quickly. He let one of his hands leave his lover’s hips to wrap around his cock, pumping him furiously in time with his thrusts. He buried his head in Skandar’s neck as his orgasm ripped through him to dampen his yell. Skandar followed quickly with a whimper and they stood braced against a wall for several minutes to catch their breath before Will moved away to start on clean up.

******************

It was several hours and another round of sex later when William lay in bed watching Skandar sleeping that he remembered something from earlier that day. He fumbled around on the nightstand for his mobile and texted awkwardly with one hand while the other played with his boyfriend’s hair. He sent the message and snuggled down to sleep.

Several floors down Ben heard his phone vibrate in the pocket of his jeans. He flipped it open.

As requested have remembered who tipped me off re: Skandar’s dream. For first time in life will openly admit I owe you one Barnes. If it helps to make us even Anna once told me she had a thing for firemen. Have fun! J P.S. I didn’t tell you, I swore on my bollocks I wouldn’t!

He snapped the phone shut again and looked back at the sleeping girl on his bed with a grin.

THE END

CORONATION PRESENT

Thu, 30 Jul 2009 01:14:18 GMT

Title: Coronation Present
Pairing: Peter/Caspian/Edmund
Rating: NC-17
Genre: SMUT
Wordcount: 6912 and it’s mostly filth. I assure you now, this is not suitable for work, or school, or any other public place!
Summary: Movieverse. Caspian feels uncomfortable with the burden of his newfound power. Peter and Edmund make him forget for a while. Or at least they would, if they didn’t keep getting interrupted.

The ballroom was heaving. All around him people danced and twirled and drank themselves silly all in the name of his good health and long reign. He smiled to see his people so happy again, they had been miserable and uneasy for too long. In one corner a fawn seemed to be trying to teach the court musicians how to play the Narnian folk tunes, much to the amusement of Reepicheep and his mice who chimed in every few seconds to tell the struggling Telmarine that he was holding his instrument wrongly. Caspian hid his amusement behind his goblet and sighed deeply, the crown on his head was feeling heavier by the moment.

“Are you alright Caspian?”

He turned to see King Edmund standing beside him. As with every other time he saw the boy, he was shocked by how good looking he was. He seemed to carry a presence with him wherever he went that Caspian had yet to get the hang of. “It’s the crown.” He complained. “It seems to be getting heavier and heavier the longer I keep it on.”

King Edmund wrinkled his nose in sympathy. “They have a tendency to do that. It’s a pity you didn’t really get a chance to practice with it. Aslan had us wearing ours around Cair Paravel for a full week before our coronation.” He took a sip of his wine, Caspian did the same. “Or was that weight metaphorical?” He added.

He choked on his wine and coughed for several moments in which time Edmund thumped him heavily on the back before eventually getting it under control. “In all honesty, I do not know.” He admitted.

King Edmund nodded quietly and considered this for a minute. “I think,” he said carefully “that you need to forget. Maybe it’s time you met the Kings of old.”

Caspian felt confused; maybe it was the wine muddling his brain. But then again, he hadn’t really had very much yet. His eyes met Edmund’s to see the King looking seriously at him. He fought not to be sucked in either by his friend’s presence or his chocolaty eyes. “I thought I’d known them for months now?” He ventured.

Edmund laughed. “No you haven’t.” He said. “You’ve only met the children they came from.” And then he was gone, walking away from Caspian across the dance floor with more sway in his hips than was strictly necessary.

The new King found his mouth was suddenly too dry and he seriously hoped he hadn’t invented the insinuated promise from the brown eyed king. He lost sight of Edmund for a minute between the waltzing couples before he reappeared next to his brother. Caspian’s stomach did a funny little backflip as the brunette bent down to whisper something in the blonde’s ear. Peter’s eyes widened then a predatory grin spread across his face as he rose, apologising to the ladies on either side of him. Caspian stood rooted to the spot, waiting for an invitation to follow then out of the ballroom. They were nearly at the door when the High King turned and beckoned him forward with another of those grins. His legs suddenly sprang into action, quickly carrying him across the room with long strides.

The door was in his sight when he was stopped and turned by a grab to his sleeve. He span on the spot and came face to face with Queen Lucy who was smiling up at him sweetly. “Caspian?” She asked. “Will you come and dance with me?”

*******************

It was another two hours before he managed to slip away from the party and when he entered his chambers; the Kings were already waiting for him.

He had expected them to be angry with him for keeping them waiting but if anything they just looked bored. High King Peter sat lounging in one of the chairs by the fire; even though the Spring days were warm it was still cold in the evenings. The firelight gleamed off his hair and the crown he wore on his head. Caspian remembered it as his crown from the fairy tales but he had never expected to see it in real life. King Edmund sat on the carpet, similarly crowned and working his way through a bowl of berries. If he had thought they had great presence downstairs it was nothing to now, everything about them commanded respect. He felt his cock twitch in anticipation.

He closed the door and Edmund looked up at him. He smiled and motioned Caspian forward with an elegant gesture. He moved on shaky legs and knelt awkwardly next to the King. “I never thought I’d actually get to meet you.” He confessed, feeling the heat rising in his face. “This is what you were like?”

“More or less,” Peter said “we actually carried our swords around all the time back then as a symbol of power but they seem to have gone out of fashion in our absence.”

“Why now?” He forced out.

Above him Peter sighed but to his right Edmund kept ploughing through the berries. “Because you’re ready.” The blonde told him. “And because you’ve a right to know. You shouldn’t have to rely on the stories.”

They sat in silence. “How do you do the power thing?” He kicked himself; he hadn’t meant to say that.

The dark king laughed. “With many years of practice.” He put a hand on Caspian’s thigh. “Don’t worry about it, you’ll learn in time.”

The High King leaned down and lifted the crown from Caspian’s head. It felt strange to have the weight removed after so many hours and he stretched and rubbed the sore muscles in his neck as Peter put it on a low seat by the window and covered it with a cloth. He jerked as Edmund’s hand moved from his thigh to his shoulder, massaging out the knots. The blonde king settled back into the chair by the fire and tangled his fingers in Caspian’s hair. He smiled happily between the two powerful men in front of him and leaned into both embraces. He was happier without the crown, already he was putting aside all the problems he knew he would have to deal with tomorrow. They could wait till the morning. “Are you going to take your crowns off too?” He wondered. Edmund’s hand left his shoulder and he felt a warm finger press against his lips.

“Quiet boy.” The King commanded softly.

Above him, Peter and Edmund exchanged a glance and then the hand that had been in his hair moved to the back of his head, pushing his face gently closer to Edmund’s. He felt his heart rate quicken and his palms begin to sweat as the dark King came within kissing distance. A pair of arms encircled his waist and Caspian wondered momentarily if he had simply had too much to drink and was in fact still in the hall downstairs daydreaming. A timid knock at the door broke the spell of the moment and he found himself deciding that if this was all a dream then he was having his subconscious hanged. Edmund jerked back and Caspian looked up to see him conversing with the High King in minute facial expressions. After several moments of what seemed to be heated debate the blonde heaved an enormous sigh and pushed himself reluctantly from his chair. Edmund also stood, pulling Caspian closer to the fire to keep him out of sight for anyone in the doorway and flung himself down into the chair that Peter had previously occupied.

The High King pulled himself up to his full height and straightened his clothes, his face fixing itself into irritation. He yanked the door open. “Yes?” He demanded.

Caspian couldn’t see anything from his position, but he guessed from the pause that whoever it was had bowed. He sent up a silent prayer that this wouldn’t take long. “Your majesty, High King Peter,” the servant said nervously. Telmarine, he mused. “the Queens would like to know if anything will detain your majesties much longer?”

From his armchair Edmund looked very amused, Caspian felt dread pooling in his stomach at the thought of being dragged away from all this. Peter pursed his lips. “You may tell their majesties that the dancing has agitated a wound in King Caspian’s leg that was sustained in battle. He needs rest if he is expected to be seen any time this week.”

Caspian pulled a face; it still felt slightly odd to be referred to as a ‘King’. Edmund saw it and started stroking his hair slowly, threading his fingers through it and letting them tangle at the base of his neck. From his position on the rug he felt rather like a pet and it surprised him how much he liked the idea. His thoughts were interrupted as Peter started talking again.

“You may also tell them that Edmund and I may be down later but that they shouldn’t count on it. We are discussing important navigational documents with his majesty who is trying to be productive.”

The High King’s meaning was obvious but the servant persisted. “Should I send up a court physician sir?” He ventured.

“He’s already been.” Peter growled agitatedly and slammed the door. Instantly, Edmund broke into laughter. Peter stalked back towards them pinching the bridge of his nose. He flung himself into a chair on the other side of Caspian. “Honestly,” he said “the things one has to do for some privacy these days.”

“Will your sisters not come looking for us High King?” The new king wondered.

Peter snorted. “God no, they know what ‘important navigational documents’ means.”

“And my injury?”

Edmund finally got control of his giggles, wiping his eyes with his free hand. “Easiest way to explain a limp the next day.” Caspian felt his ears going red at the insinuation and his cock jumped in his trousers. Edmund smiled and leaned down to kiss him.

Their lips met gently, barely grazing past each other in the first instance. They met again, more firmly this time and Caspian’s stomach seemed to dance inside him. Part of him couldn’t quite believe he was kissing the legendary King Edmund the Just but a much larger part of him wanted to shut out the rest of the world and lose himself in the feeling of Edmund’s tongue dragging slowly across his top lip. He opened his mouth and the tongue slipped inside unhurriedly, mapping everything it found. Caspian wrapped his arms around the King’s neck and tried to push their tongues back into the other’s mouth. The hand in his hair tightened minutely as Edmund acquiesced. A new hand touched him on the shoulder and he pulled back to see Peter grinning at them both. “May I cut in?” He asked politely.

Edmund returned his grin. “Be my guest.” He said. He removed his hand from Caspian’s hair and leaned back in his seat to watch.

Caspian turned on his knees to the blonde, realising for the first time that he was painfully hard. He scarcely had time to register that Peter’s grin had turned decidedly feral before the High King had grabbed both his shoulders and smashed their lips together. He grabbed the King’s biceps to brace himself as he felt his lower lip being sucked harshly into the other’s mouth. His cock throbbed and he moaned quietly into the kiss, desperately trying to gain the upper hand. He failed miserably but didn’t care.

Eventually they had to part for breath. “So,” Caspian panted, his accent thick with lust “what happens now?”

Peter regained his composure quickly though his eyes were still black and his breathing was more laboured than usual. “You tell me.” He said.

Caspian thought it unreasonable to expect him to think in his present state. King Edmund seemed to read his mind and take pity on him. “How do you feel?” He offered.

“Very strange.” He admitted. “It is like I’m walking through a dream, it’s all so surreal.” Edmund nodded wisely and Caspian was happy to notice that his skin was flushed and his eyes a little darker than normal. “Does it pass?” He pressed.

“Oh yes, very quickly. As soon as the celebrations stop and you have to get down to actually running the country the whole thing disappears.”

“And tonight?”

“Tonight is your coronation.” Peter said. “It’s all about you. Stand up.”

Caspian got to his feet, grimacing at his knees which seemed to have seized up. Edmund moved in front of him and looped his arms around his neck, pulling him close. Caspian returned the embrace, smiling smugly to himself at the feeling of what he really hoped wasn’t a belt strap pushing against his thigh. He buried his head in the other man’s neck, breathing in his scent. Another body pressed against his back and strong arms snaked around his waist. Behind him Peter ground his hips into Caspian’s arse. A tongue licked the side of his neck and he shuddered, his cock straining against its confines. Both men let out a low chuckle, one that went straight to Caspian’s already prominent erection and made his innards do a funny little twist.

Edmund slid down his body and onto his knees in front of him. Caspian’s breath caught in his throat, already imagining the King’s mouth on his cock but instead the brunette just removed his boots for him and threw them somewhere out of sight for a servant to pick up later. Peter’s hands moved up to his chest, quickly divesting him of his jacket and shirt so that by the time Edmund stood up again he was standing in just his trousers, feeling slightly silly next to the others who were still fully dressed. He didn’t have much time to dwell on this however, as the warm heat of Edmund's body returned to his front, matching Peter’s on his back. Peter started grinding into him again and Edmund ground back, shifting his hips so that their erections were pressed together. Caspian’s head fell back onto Peter’s shoulder, revelling in the delicious friction his cock was getting. The younger king leaned forward and attached his mouth to Caspian’s collarbone, sucking and nipping gently at the skin. He forced his mind to clear for a minute. “Shouldn’t we perhaps move this to the bedchamber?” He asked.

Behind him, Peter stilled instantly. “Why on earth would you want to do that?” He breathed against Caspian’s ear.

Edmund pulled back from his collarbone to look at him innocently with big chocolate eyes. “What kind of sordid interactions did you think we would be having?” Caspian felt himself blushing again and Edmund’s eyebrows rose in mock surprise. “Maybe sordid interactions are what he’s after.” He said in wonderment.

Peter sighed dramatically and moved away from them in the direction of a small table with some wine. “And there was me thinking we could just have a nice little talk about maps.” He teased.

Edmund took his hand and lead him back to the fireplace where they sat down together as Peter removed the cork from the bottle and took a sip. He nodded appreciatively and moved back towards them with it. Edmund picked up the berry bowl and offered one to Caspian who eyed it with suspicion. “Has this been laced with anything?” He asked warily.

Peter sat in a chair and tried to look offended. “How could you accuse us of such a thing?”

Caspian took the bottle from him and took a long sip. “I had to sleep next to you in the how.” He said, handing it back to the blonde.

The High King shrugged. “Fair enough.”

Edmund chimed in. “I don’t think there’s anything in them,” he said, holding the berry up to the light to inspect it “at least I hope not, I think I’ve had about a hundred already.”

Caspian accepted this reasoning and took the fruit from Edmund’s hand. He tried for seduction as he put it in his mouth, maintaining steady eye contact with the darker king, but ended up getting most of the juice down his front when he bit into it too hard. Edmund leaned forward to remove the drips from his chin and chest and Caspian’s cock twitched involuntarily at the swipe of his tongue. Peter shook his head at them and smirked. “And how long have you had this eating problem Caspian?” He teased.

The brunette got as far as “I -” into his witty retort before there was another knock at the door. He sat sulkily on the rug and hugged his arms as Peter went to the door again and Edmund stood discretely behind him to offer help if necessary. The door was opened and several minutes of quiet words were exchanged, very little of which he could actually hear, before Peter finally huffed. “Oh very well,” he said tersely “but he’s really not in a good state. Give us a moment to collect him from his chamber.” The door closed again and then there was a flurry of movement as the Pevensie boys flew to opposite corners of the room.

“Peter,” Caspian asked weakly “what is going on?”

The blonde span to face him and pulled his face into a haughty expression. “The most noble Telmarine council of Lords would like to toast the coronation of King Caspian the tenth.”

Caspian panicked, scrambling desperately to his feet and trying to will his erection away. Edmund, who seemed entirely unphased by the situation, appeared in front of him with a robe. He hastily pulled it on, fussing with the ties at the front until Edmund batted his hands away and tied them for him loosely. Peter returned with his crown and he knelt to have it placed on his head by the high king, just as he had that morning.

He stood and Peter moved to the door again as Edmund slipped under his arm. “Lean on me.” The brunette hissed.

“Why?” He asked incredulously.

Edmund flicked him in the forehead with his free hand. “Because you’ve hurt your leg, remember?”

He dropped one knee and put all his weight on the king beside him as the Lords entered. They bowed low to all three of them formally and raised their goblets high. Lord Passarid stepped forward. “Good evening your Majesty. Please excuse us for interrupting your duties but it is the custom of the Telmarine court for the Lords of the Council to toast the new monarch.” Behind them he could see Peter rolling his eyes dramatically, thankfully though the lords seemed to mistake his laugher for a wince of pain. “I am sorry your majesty,” Passarid said “I can see your wound is serious. We must be brief. All hail King Caspian the tenth, Conqueror of the usurper Miraz and uniter of the peoples of the new Narnia. Hail!”

“HAIL!” The lords chorused behind him.

“Gentlemen, the King. Long Live the King!”

“Long Live the King!”

They all drank deeply and Caspian bowed slightly to them as best he could on one leg, an act that Peter seemed to find this very funny indeed. The Lords shuffled around and seemed to be settling themselves for a discussion. Some of them even seemed to be taking papers out of their formal robes. He sent a panicked glance to the other kings. Peter’s face darkened but beside him, perhaps sensing danger, Edmund gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze and quickly cleared his throat. “And now Lords, we must ask you to leave. I’m sure that the queens are maintaining a wonderful celebration downstairs and King Caspian the tenth needs his rest.”

Caspian noted that he seemed to be doing that power thing again and his cock, which had softened a bit in their shambles to make him presentable, jumped again and he found himself sending a silent thanks to whoever designed his dressing gowns to hide quite so much. He forced himself not to fling his arms around Edmund’s neck and grind into him; this was not the time or place to come out to the court.

Edmund’s voice took on a slightly cold note. “I trust there is not anything on the agenda so vital that you would risk the health of your king?”

In all his life Caspian had never seen the Lords move as fast as they did that moment. They bowed very low again before almost pushing past each other to leave the room before a monarch lost their temper with them.

No sooner had the door been closed and the sound of hastily retreating footsteps vanished than Peter rounded on him angrily. “WHY is there not a lock on this door?” He demanded.

Caspian laughed as he took his weight off Edmund. “I think it is in case someone tries to murder me.” He said lightly. “People can storm in and save me.”

The high king snorted, glaring at the door. “And what if I go out there and murder one of them first?”

“Pete…” Edmund said warningly.

Peter pinched the bridge of his nose then smiled brightly, wandering back towards them. “You’re right.” He said. “I’m sorry; I’m being a party pooper.”

“A what?” Caspian asked.

“Never mind.” The others said.

“It’s a Spare ‘Oom term.” Peter elaborated, taking off Caspian’s crown again.

A pair of arms encircled his chest and he craned his neck to see Edmund standing behind him. The king kissed him briefly on the cheek as his hands made short work of the ties on his robe. He let it fall to the floor, shivering slightly at the rush of cool air that hit his skin, but Edmund’s hands didn’t move away, they simply trailed down his stomach and started undoing the lacings on his trousers – which produced a very different kind of shiver from him. These too dropped to the floor and suddenly the heat of Edmund’s body against his back was gone and he was left standing naked in the middle of the room. For the first time in the evening he felt awkward and nervous. He fidgeted self-consciously for a moment before Edmund came back into view again, pulling off his own jacket. Peter returned from putting the crown away again and did the same. They stood on either side of him and looked him up and down, talking to each other in infinitesimally small facial movements and Caspian started to feel like a horse they were thinking of buying. He jumped when Peter touched his wrist. “Calm down,” the king urged “we’re not going to hurt you.” The blonde pressed himself against Caspian’s back and rested his chin on his shoulder. “Although we may be feeling slightly murderous that you kept this-” he stroked a hand down Caspian’s side “from us for so long. What d’you think Ed?”

Edmund stroked his chin theatrically. “Not bad,” he said “it has potential.” Caspian glared at him and he laughed. “Well what would you rather I said Caspian? That you’re quite possibly one of the most beautiful creatures I have ever seen? No, see, you’re blushing. You don’t like that at all.”

“Reminds me a bit of what you looked like at his age.” Peter said.

Edmund took a sip of wine. “Ah, I wondered why you were so attached to him. Not that there isn’t anything worth looking at Caspian, I think we’ve established there is, but Peter’s usually too possessive to suggest letting anyone else come near me.”

Caspian didn’t have to look round to tell that the blonde was blushing; he could feel his cheeks burning against his neck. Peter let go of him and guided him to one of the chairs, making a motion that he should sit down. He did as he was told and watched curiously as Peter snatched the wine bottle from Edmund’s hand and set it back on its table. Edmund smiled and pressed himself flush with Peter’s body, bringing their crowned heads together so their lips could touch. They kissed slowly, with an air that spoke of practice. Caspian wondered for a minute if they had forgotten all about him before they both pulled back just enough for their tongues to battle in the space between their mouths. He felt the room grow inexplicably warmer in an instant and dropped his hand to his lap as Peter’s hands worked their way down to Edmund’s arse and yanked their groins into contact. He wrapped his hand around his cock and stroked himself slowly, unsure as to whether he was supposed to bring himself to relief while watching their show. It was a struggle not to bring himself to release, in his current state he was close enough that he was sure he could do it in less than a minute, but he could almost guarantee that if he did he would be ruining some greater plan they had. He toyed momentarily with the idea of one of them bringing him off then had to fling his hand away from himself to stop him coming on the spot as a jolt of something, lust maybe, went through him.

He was starting to think of touching himself again when Edmund knelt to the floor in front of Peter and started peppering kisses along the prominent hardness in the front of his trousers. Edmund stood again, peeling Peter’s shirt off as he went before throwing it to Caspian without looking at him. Instinctively, he raised it to his nose. Peter smelled of soap and musk and something sweet, perhaps vanilla. He didn’t get much more time to dwell on it however, as Peter turned Edmund to face him in his chair and stood behind him their bodies flush together. Edmund’s shirt was pulled off carefully and dropped to the ground. Blue eyes locked with brown before the high king moved his lips to Edmund’s neck, his hand trailing down the younger man’s chest and stomach before settling over the bulge in his trousers and squeezing him through the fabric. Edmund gasped and Peter squeezed harder, eliciting a moan as his head fell back against the blonde’s shoulder.

His cock was throbbing but he didn’t dare touch himself for fear he would come on the spot (something told him that Peter would count it as a victory if he did) so he contented himself with getting a good look at the man in front of him for the first time.

Despite having known him for several months now he’d never really seen Edmund like this before, one of them had always been too busy to accept the other’s invitation to go swimming. He berated himself for not having made time weeks ago; he’d been missing out on so much. Peter of course had never asked him but he bathed naked at roughly the same time that Caspian liked to take a walk at night when they’d been in the How so he had a pretty good idea of what he looked like below the armour. It had filled many of his fantasies, gold skin and hard muscles born of many years physical training. He looked powerful, both physically and socially and it made him shiver just to think of it. Where Peter was built for strength Edmund was built for speed, he could tell just by looking at him. His muscles were leaner, more easily hidden by clothing. He was probably deceptively strong, he mused. Edmund’s skin was almost silver in the firelight; his face angelic as he let out soft mewls at what Peter’s hands were doing to him.

He was mid way through trying to decide who he’d rather go to bed with (and failing spectacularly to come up with an answer) when the brunette decided he’d had enough and turned back round. Their foreheads rested together for a moment before they turned their heads towards him and offered him a hand each. Glancing between their predatory grins, he thought for a moment that this was obviously was his nurse maid had meant when she had warned him about temptation before giving in and taking their hands in his. He expected to be pulled up but was instead yanked down as all three tumbled onto the rug.

He landed on Peter with an undignified “ooph” and nearly managed to kick Edmund’s crown off in his struggle to get up again. It took a moment for them all to get into a stable position but soon enough Edmund’s lips were on his own and Peter was reaching for the wine to lick off someone.

It was a couple of minutes later when Peter was kneeling behind him kissing his shoulders that there was another knock at the door. The king flung up his hands in frustration when they both looked expectantly at him. “No way. I am not going near that door again. If you make me Edmund, so help me God, I swear to you that I will take a sword to whoever is standing on the other side.”

And so it was with a good deal of huffing and something muttered about overly dramatic blondes that Edmund rooted around for his shirt and threw it on as he moved to the door. Caspian thought that some of his aggravation must have shown in his face for although he couldn’t see the servant from his position on the rug, he sounded terrified. “Your majesty,” the girl said “Queen Lucy the Valiant fears that in your hurry to assist King Caspian your majesties might have forgotten to eat. She bade me bring you up some bread with oil and vinegar.”

Edmund’s stance softened slightly, Caspian just wished the girl would go away – he was almost certain Edmund had been about to do something about the throbbing between his legs. “You may tell Queen Lucy the Valiant that she was quite right, we had forgotten all about food. Please also mention to Queen Susan the Gentle that High King Peter the Magnificent is getting steadily more vexed with the interruptions which are doing nothing for King Caspian’s ability to rest.” He moved back into the room holding a tray and closed the heavy door with his foot.

“What is it tonight with the visitors?” Peter asked.

Edmund set the tray down and Caspian picked up the bottle of oil, inspecting it. “In all fairness to them, we have stolen their new king on his coronation night. Don’t drink that by the way.” He warned

Caspian looked startled. “Why not?”

“Well I suppose you can if you want to,” Edmund conceded “but it won’t taste any good and it’s not really supposed to go in your mouth…”

It took Caspian a moment longer than he would admit to to catch Edmund’s meaning. When he did he blushed furiously and set the bottle back on the tray. Peter put a reassuring hand on his leg. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” he assured him “we can do anything you want. Just say the word and we’ll back off.”

“It’s not that” he insisted “I just didn’t expect it to be delivered to the door quite so indiscreetly.”

“The best place to hide something is often in plain sight.” Edmund said. “I take it you’ve done this before then?”

Caspian nodded. “A few times. There was a prince from Archenland that came here when news was spread that my aunt was pregnant. They were hoping that one of their royal family could be betrothed to the child.” The hand on his leg hadn’t moved, it was joined by another one from Edmund higher up. He fought to keep his mind clear. “My uncle found out about our… intimacy, it was never more than that, but he did not approve. He was sent back about a week before my cousin was born.”

Peter’s hand moved up his leg to massage his hip. “And just how ‘intimate’ were you two?” He asked. Caspian thought he heard jealousy tinged in his voice.

“We were friends.” He said. Both men looked at him disbelievingly. “And very bored,” he elaborated “we were always left behind at hunts, always sent up early at feasts. We got very drunk one night and it happened. We found it pleasurable so it happened again. There was no relationship as such; it was just a way of killing time.”

Edmund’s finger traced the underside of his cock. “Was he here today?” The brunette asked.

“Yesss.” Caspian hissed as the finger turned into a hand that was squeezing him gently.

“And would he care if he knew what you were doing now?” Peter pressed.

He gasped as an oiled finger touched his entrance, circling slowly. “I do not think so,” he panted “I hear he’s married now.”

Edmund shrugged. “Fair enough.”

Caspian felt himself being pushed down against the rug. His heart beat in his throat as the finger returned to his hole, pushing in gently. It felt a little odd but practice taught him to relax around it. Edmund appeared at his head and bent down so their lips could meet. He moaned into the kiss as a second finger joined the first, feeling unnaturally stretched. Edmund distracted him by wrapping his hand around his cock again and stroking slowly. Peter’s fingers left him to get more oil and when they returned it was easier. The fingers inside him started searching for his prostate and Caspian tilted his hips as best he could impatiently, trying to guide them to where he remembered it being. He cried out when they found it, cursing when Edmund let go of his cock to stop him coming and cursing more loudly when he found his hands held down so he couldn’t do it for himself.

Peter’s fingers started pumping into him rhythmically, occasionally leaving him to get more oil, sometimes rubbing round his spot for several moments. He could feel himself leaving the room, just floating into a world of pleasure marred only by his growing need to come. He almost didn’t notice when a third finger joined the other two – almost. He squirmed uncomfortably and turned his head to the side to see Edmund touching himself. The boy had his cock in his hand, stroking himself slowly, and when he caught Caspian looking at him he dragged his tongue slowly across his lips to wet them. His hand left his cock and moved to his mouth where he licked the palm and sucked the fingers before returning it to his impressive erection, smoothing the spit over his purpled head before taking the rest of him in hand and stroking slowly.

Caspian screwed his eyes shut against the image but Peter found his sweet spot again and there was nothing to distract him from the rush of pleasure that went through him. “Stop,” he begged “please, stop. Do it, just do it now.” He didn’t dare open his eyes again as a pair of arms hauled him up and put him on his hands and knees. He spread his legs and arched his back, trying to make his arse look as appealing as possible. There was a rustle of movement and then Peter was behind him again, Caspian could smell him, and there was something much larger at his entrance. He pushed in slowly and Caspian was grateful for it, he’d known since he first watched him bathe that Peter was a lot bigger than the Archenland prince had been. He shuddered for a moment with the feeling of being so full when the king finally stopped and wondered briefly if he was going to rip apart. But then he started to move and somehow he managed to get his prostate on the first try and for a while Caspian’s world went white. There was nothing but the steady rhythm coming from behind him and the shockwaves it sent going through him.

He had no idea how much time had elapsed, it could have been minutes or hours, but it was suddenly no longer enough. He pushed back onto Peter’s cock, trying to get more friction. Peter sped up, his pace almost doubling and pushing deeper, and Caspian’s mouth went slack. Something tapped against his cheek and he looked up, opening his eyes. Edmund was there, his cock in hand as an offering. Caspian saw a drop of precome at the head and leaned forward to lick it off. Behind him Peter swore loudly and pushed even deeper into him. He shifted slightly on his hands and took Edmund into his mouth. For a moment he experimented with trying to move his neck to suck him off but it made the muscles hurt so he moved his hands to Edmund’s hips to stop him gagging and let Peter do all the work. This time Edmund swore, fisting his hands in Caspian’s hair and flexing his hips into his mouth. Caspian smiled that he could reduce the kings of old to such a state and sucked him gently at the head. Edmund swore again and said something unintelligible to Peter who picked the pace up even further.

His sweet spot was taking a pounding now as the blonde’s fingers tug into his hips to get more leverage. Shock after shock went through him and he felt himself getting slightly delirious. He wished he could touch himself, his cock was bouncing against his stomach, still throbbing, but that would mean taking a hand off Edmund’s hips and he was fairly sure Peter’s thrusts would push his cock too deep down his throat if he did that. His need to come was edging closer and closer towards painful and the rug underneath him was steadily burning his knees. He clamped his arse as hard as he could around Peter’s cock to try and get his attention. Peter yelled and jerked his hips erratically, forcing Caspian’s mouth further onto Edmund’s cock. The boy above him was mewling frustratedly now and Caspian redoubled his efforts, sucking him hard on the way up again. The younger man stiffened and came suddenly with a moan. Caspian swallowed as much of the bitter, salty come as he could. Edmund’s hands gripped his shoulders, supporting him, as Peter changed his angle slightly and he felt a familiar building in his stomach. The waves of pleasure coursing through him all melded together in the need to come and he tried to get his hands from Edmund’s grip to no avail. He could no longer tell up from down as everything else was stripped away down to just his aching need to come. Nothing else mattered. And then Peter changed his angle yet again and everything exploded. His whole body convulsed violently as streams of come shot from his cock. His vision span wildly and he was left boneleslly relying on the hands that held him up and a ringing in his ears.

He had a vague awareness of someone else yelling distantly in the background and of being lifted and put on something soft and warm and a sound a bit like clothing being removed and a sudden warmth on either side of him before darkness claimed him and he fell asleep.

******************

When he awoke next morning it was to see the sun high in the sky and a pleasant ache in most of his muscles. Edmund brushed the hair from his eyes. “Morning.” He said brightly. “How do you feel?”

He sat up uncertainly and looked around him. Peter and Edmund sat on his bed, fully dressed and looking at him intently. Somehow they’d also managed to wrestle him into a nightshirt without waking him up. “You never touched me.” He said incredulously. “You never touched me and yet…”

Peter looked smug. “I bet you didn’t know that was possible. Quite tricky to learn and rather frustrating for the receiver but well worth it.” His smile faltered. “Should I have warned you?”

“Probably.”

“Do you care?”

He grinned. “Not particularly no.”

They all smiled at each other. Caspian leaned back against the headboard. “So when are you both leaving again?”

“Keen to get rid of us?” Peter teased.

He shook his head. “I just want to be prepared.” He said.

“It’ll probably be soon.” Edmund answered. “Don’t think we don’t love it here Caspian, we really do, but we’ve done what you called us here to do now.”

A fawn appeared at the door and bowed. “High King Peter, Aslan would like to see you in the courtyard as soon as possible.” The fawn turned to Caspian. “Good morning sir, how’s your leg?”

Caspian cleared his throat and Edmund turned away to hide his smile. “Much better thank you.” He said. “Still tender, but better.”

The fawn bowed and left. Peter got off the bed, giving Edmund a kiss on the cheek. “I suppose I should go and see what he wants. I’ll come back later.” He promised and walked out after the fawn.

Edmund moved closer, looking unconcerned. “It could be anything really,” he explained “in the old days we were always being hauled off to be given cryptic advice that we wouldn’t unravel for years.”

Caspian nodded. “How does one begin to say thank you for last night?” He asked.

Edmund clapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t.” He said. “Just consider it a coronation present.”

THE END

Comments = love = stories! :D

CHANNEL HOPPING

Sun, 28 Jun 2009 22:15:41 GMT

Title: Channel Hopping
Pairing: William Moseley/ Skandar Keynes
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Fluff
Wordcount: 1329
Summary: Oneshot. Just a silly little thing to stop surgical_rush from feeling quite so stressed. Will thinks Prince Caspian was a groundbreaking film, Skandar’s not so sure. So very, very domestic.

Enjoy!

It was nice to be back in London, if only for a few days. The sun was shining, the birds were singing - regrettably. They’d woken Skandar up at five this morning and despite his best attempts to kill them by throwing hotel mini-sized toiletries out of the window at them, he’d somehow missed and they now seemed to be singing even louder than usual just to spite him. Will had found the whole situation very amusing.

Skandar rolled his eyes. Will had yet to find a single thing he didn’t like about being back in England again. He had actually kissed the floor when they had arrived in the airport, exclaiming that now he could get a decent cup of tea for the first time in days. Skandar had already found what he didn’t like about London anymore. Ever since he’d done the Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe it had been about a 50:50 chance as to whether he could go out without being recognised. London was his home town and he felt it just wasn’t fair that he could no longer go to any of the places that had always been his usual haunts unless he took a supply of biros and was prepared to spend the entire day posing for photographs. Even getting on the bus to a friend’s house was dangerous now. He longed for the day when he could learn to drive.

He heaved a sigh and gave up on willing the birds silent, yanking the fridge door open and grabbing a coke. He kicked it closed again and made his way through to the living room where Will was lounging on the sofa and flicking through television channels. The blonde looked up at him “They’re not going to stop just because you want them to.” He said.

Skandar rolled his eyes and flopped down next to him, moving himself under Will’s outstretched arm to snuggle. “I know,” he said “but I’m reluctant to give up hope.” He glanced around the room. It had been a while since he’d been in Will’s flat and his boyfriend seemed to have made some changes since his last visit. Everything was light and airy now, tastefully decorated and smelled faintly of the flowers in the kitchen. Gone were the days of crazy, stickman artwork on the walls and the living room centred around the Xbox and Skandar couldn’t decide if he missed it, Will even had coasters on the coffee table now.

He stared at the television as Will flicked through a football game, 2 music videos and a documentary about tigers.

“Pick a number.” His boyfriend said.

“321”

Will typed it in and another documentary popped up, this one about brain surgery. Skandar looked forward, feeling interested but Will went faintly green and changed back to the previous channel. “And another?”

“123”

Will rolled his eyes. “Very imaginative Skandar, well done.” This time they got a tennis match which made the blonde’s blue eyes light up and caused Skandar to groan.

“No.” He said. “Absolutely not. I’ve just spent five months in New Zealand with a bunch of unbearably sporty people, I’m sick of watching sports. You’ve had plenty of time to ogle people in short shorts while I was away.”

Will looked down and pouted at him. “But it’s Wimbledon Skan.”

Skandar fought to ignore the puppydog eyes. “I don’t care.” He said firmly. “I’m vetoing the tennis.”

“Oh fine.” Will huffed. “You want to try another one or should we just give up?”

“456?” Will tried it and they were hit with the sight of Prince Caspian squaring up to High King Peter in the forest. “No, no. Turn it off Will, turn it off!”

Will hurriedly complied and they were left sitting on the sofa, staring blankly at a black TV screen. The blonde recovered first. “I thought we’d seen the last of that.”

Skandar shook his head. “Apparently not.”

They sat in silence for a few more minutes in which time Will played with Skandar’s hair. “Still,” he said “it was quite a ground breaking film?”

Skan pushed back from him. “On what grounds?”

Will grinned. “Think about it. It’s an American film with British people in it and they’re NOT the bad guys.”

“No but they are gay.”

This seemed to throw Will. “What?”

Skandar rolled his eyes and sighed theatrically. “Oh Will, have you never seen your own performance?”

His boyfriend shoved him playfully and kissed him on the cheek. “You’re mean.” He said. “It was something new I brought to the part. But what does being gay have anything to with it?”

Skandar crossed his legs and hugged a pillow. “You’re behind the times William. It’s common knowledge that if it’s an American film all British guys are either gay or evil. Preferably both. So you see, it wasn’t groundbreaking at all.”

Will shrugged. “You think you can do better?”

The dark haired boy smirked. “Oh I know I’ve done better. Dawn Treader’s going to be amazing.”

Will pulled him closer, playing with his hair again. “Speaking of which, when are you running away from me again. I think considering I flew all the way out to the other side of the world to get you I deserve to know.”

“End of the week.” Skan admitted. “We’ve got a whole lot of post-production stuff to do in L.A. And anyway, I don’t see how you can make out that you came all the way to New Zealand just to see me, you wanted to get drunk with Ben and join the mile-high club. Admit it, you missed us all.”

Will blushed and grinned. “Lies and slander.”

Skandar laughed. “But you’ll be out by the end of the month won’t you?” He asked, his voice tinged with worry.

Will rubbed his back soothingly. “Yeah, filming starts quite soon. We’ll have to think about getting a flat over there, or an apartment as they call them.”

“Ooh, very domestic.”

Will cuffed him around the head. “This from the boy that let Ben write ‘Property of William Moseley’ on his arse with a felt tip pen?”

“Oh that was not my fault.” He insisted. “It was my first time drinking tequila and if that pen had been half as washable as it claimed to be you’d have never needed to know.” He straightened up. “But anyway, point is that Prince Caspian wasn’t groundbreaking because although none of us were evil, you ruined it with the least subtle sexual tension that I’ve ever seen in a Disney film. And as I can actually keep it in my boxers whenever a handsome 20-something brunette comes towards me, the next one will be infinitely better.”

“Uh huh?”

“Uh huh.”

Will sighed resignedly. “Well then,” he said “I guess there’s only one thing for it.”

In a flash Skandar found himself flat on the sofa with Will tickling him mercilessly on the ribs. “Stop!” He shrieked between giggles. “Will you bastard, let me go!” Will moved onto his feet and Skandar writhed, eventually managing to get free and clambering over the arm of the sofa to safety. He pointed a finger accusingly at his boyfriend. “You, were evil.” He panted.

Will grinned broadly and shrugged. “You were bitchy.” He opened his arms wide for Skandar to hug him.

The younger man eyed him with suspicion but moved slowly into his embrace. He stayed there for a few moments, just drinking in his lover’s smell. Will pulled back and brought their lips together gently and Skandar felt at home again. He moved away after a few minutes of slow caress and picked up an apple from the fruit bowl. “Out of interest,” he said “do you happen to know why we’re not supposed to eat the pips?”

Will went back to flicking through channels. “Apparently they’ve got cyanide in them.”

Skandar’s eyes lit up. “D’you think if I fed them to the birds they’d shut up?”

THE END

Please Comment :D

WHAT THEY NEED

Thu, 25 Jun 2009 00:01:47 GMT

Title: What They Need
Pairing: Edmund/Caspian/Peter
Rating: NC-17
Genre: SMUT (Porn for intellectuals)
Warnings: Bondage, spankings, D/s, sex toys, hot wax, graphic sex… no likey? No ready. Intrigued? Read on.
Wordcount: 4543
Summary: Sequel to ‘What he needs’, probably a good idea to read that first. Post White Witch incident. Peter and Caspian are feeling guilty; Edmund takes charge of the situation.
Author’s note: Gargh, this is what happens when I cannot sleep at night. I start to daydream…

They eventually found Peter where they’d left him hours before, sitting on the stone table sharpening his sword, the tension in his shoulders evident from the view they had of his back. He cut his thumb as they entered and stuck it in his mouth swearing loudly. Edmund coughed into his fist and the blonde span round raising his sword momentarily as Caspian had before he recognised them. His shoulders sagged and he dropped his eyes to the floor. “I’m sorry.” He whispered.

Edmund was torn between screaming at him and saying something so tremendously soppy that all in a five mile radius would vomit. Instead he did neither, tugging Caspian behind him he walked noiselessly to the king and, grabbing his elbow with his free hand, lead them both away from the ice shards on the floor.

By the time they got to their rooms Edmund had a plan in mind. The moment the door was closed and locked behind them he pushed them both to the floor. “You two” he said, indicating between them “are going to talk.” He saw Peter give a tiny nod and Caspian smile weakly then stormed over to the trunks they’d had brought up from Cair Paravel and took out the book he’d been reading 1300 years ago on the medicinal uses of Narnian herbs. He settled on a ledge and tried to calm down, forcing himself not to look at the boys on the floor. He contented himself with staring blankly at a picture of dittany and listening to them.

There was a rustling noise as they presumably made themselves more comfortable and then Caspian was the first to speak. “I’m sorry.” He said. “This is my fault. Things were not moving at the rate I would have liked and I got frustrated. I took that out on you when I had no right to do so. You were right about the Castle. If I had done my part we could be planning a coronation by now and-”

Peter cut him off. “You’re getting ahead of yourself; I’m to blame as well. More than you if anything. What you’ve been seeing isn’t anything new.” There was a slight pause. “I’m guessing Edmund told you that then.” Peter sighed. “I guess he was right to. Look, I’ve been a prat and you’ve been annoying and between us we’ve managed to lose half the army but sitting around moping about it or complaining that we’re not being respected as royalty isn’t going to help us. So I guess I just want to say I’m sorry too.”

Edmund bit his lip. If you’d worked that out a week ago then we’d still have the other half of our army. He thought bitterly, forcing himself to notice the border pattern around an illustration and not to look over at his lover. A thick accent filled the air.

“I just feel so useless. And so guilty. Everywhere I look I see the families of men I killed. The weight of what happened’s pressing in on me.”

“You always will.” Peter said. “And it’s a very poor king that doesn’t. It used to happen to me quite a bit at one stage. Edmund and I came up with a coping system to help one another…” He trailed off and the dark king stole a glance over the top of his book to see Peter biting his lip and Caspian looking hopefully at him. The blonde dropped his voice. “How are Telmarine children punished when they make mistakes? Really bad mistakes?” He asked suddenly.

Edmund rolled his eyes, quite amused that they seemed to think he couldn’t hear them and grateful that they were finally heading in the right direction. He lifted the book a little higher and turned a page but kept his eyes fixed on the scene in front of him.

Caspian looked confused at this question. “Boys are usually hit with a rod or a belt by their tutors I think and girls are given more chores. I can only say I think though, I have no real experience in the matter.” He blushed and looked at the floor in front of him, embarrassed.

Peter nodded. “The rules are different for royalty. I know. It was roughly the same in Spare ‘Oom. Ed told you we were peasants there didn’t he? But yes, the moment you become a King all of that goes out the window.”

There was a moment more of silence in which they both stared at the ground. “I often wondered” Caspian whispered “whether they found their punishment helpful or whether it was just out of spite from the tutors.”

Peter laughed softly. “That all depends on the punishment, and why. It can give you closure sometimes, help you let go of things you’d been holding inside.”

Caspian flushed an even darker shade of pink. “Occasionally when I was younger I longed for an older brother that I could follow around. Just to let him take control and not be the one making the decisions for a while. Someone more important than me, someone more dominant.”

They were edging closer to what needed to be said but not quickly enough for Edmund, who was starting to feel impatient with them. Peter leaned back on his arms. “It can help sometimes.” He said. “Just to give over all the power to someone else for a while. You sometimes need it to be a good king.” Peter’s voice dropped even lower and he jerked his head in Edmund’s direction. “And the only person who can give you that is another King.” Edmund felt his patience wear out. He snapped the book shut and stood up suddenly. “And if you want to get anything done this side of next month I suggest you hurry up and bloody well ask him!” He flung the book in a corner and marched over to the

Caspian did a convincing impression of a goldfish but said nothing and shocked boys on the floor, hauling a temporarily stunned Peter to his feet. “You,” he said “go get some stuff from the trunks.” He brushed the hair from his lover’s eyes and kissed him gently on the forehead. “Whatever you think you need.” Peter nodded and all but ran to the trunks in the corner of the room. He turned back to Caspian who was staring expectantly at him with huge chocolate eyes. “You stay where you are.” He instructed and sat on the end of the bed. He took a moment to study him. Caspian really was gorgeous. Tall and athletic. He could feel himself getting hard hoped that neither of the others had noticed his leggings were tighter than they should be yet. He glanced into the corner, where Peter was comparing different ropes, and his cock twitched. He looked back to the boy in front of him. “You’ve really never done anything like this before?” Caspian shook his head mutely. Edmund sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Ok then, ground rules. If it gets too much you have to tell me to stop ok? Peter and I have been doing this for a long time, since before our coronations. I know his limits and he knows mine but you’re a complete virgin.” Caspian looked offended and Edmund smiled. “Ok, a complete virgin as far as this is concerned at least. I’m pretty good at guessing what people need but if there’s something that scares you, you have to say. Understood?” Caspian nodded. “Say it.” He said sternly.

“I understand.” Caspian croaked.

Edmund felt his mood lift. He clapped his hands together. “Good. Well then, other than that I am now in charge. You do what I tell you when I tell you to do it.” He stood and leaned against a bed post. “Take off your clothes.” He ordered. “Fold them neatly by the wall then come back here and kneel.” Caspian rushed to obey and Edmund felt a jolt of excitement go through him at the power. He’d always loved this game. “You too Peter.” He called, his eyes fixed on the naked body in front of him. He could feel the drool welling up inside his mouth as he eyed the hard muscles of Caspian’s arms and torso. He was relieved to see the boy’s cock standing half hard from his body. He was large, not as big as Peter but bigger than himself in his current state. Edmund grimaced; he really resented that part of his transformation back to boyhood.

He bent down and captured the brunette’s mouth with his own. His lips slid over Caspian’s but didn’t get a response. He grabbed the back of the boy’s head and kissed him harder, pushing his tongue against the supple lips but they still didn’t budge. He pulled back to see him trembling slightly, his cock fully hard and his fists clenched by his side. Beside him Peter had knelt, equally naked and equally hard. Edmund let himself be distracted momentarily by the sight in front of him. Peter kept his head bowed submissively, giving all the power over to Edmund. Caspian just stared at him pleadingly. He raised an eyebrow at him. “You may kiss me back boy, just keep your hands where they are for now.” Caspian flushed and Peter smiled slightly at his mistake. Edmund poked the blonde hard in the chest. “Hey, none of that.” He said. “You were learning once too.” Caspian looked gratefully up at him and he bent down for another kiss.

This time he kissed back with passion and Edmund bit back a moan as he grabbed his hair and thrust his tongue into the other’s mouth. He stroked Caspian’s tongue with his own and relished the groan that broke forth from the other’s lips. His hand tangled in the brunette’s hair and yanked his head back sharply and attached his mouth to the exposed neck in front of him, nipping and sucking at the skin until it was covered in tiny purple marks. To his side Peter whimpered and he let go of the Price in favour of the King, bringing their lips together gently. The kiss was soft and brief but years of practice had Peter quivering beneath Edmund nonetheless.

He stepped back and looked at them both again, the room suddenly feeling unnaturally hot and his erection straining painfully against the fabric that confined it. They were polar opposites yet both were still utterly gorgeous in their own way. His eyes raked over Caspian, a sheen of sweat glistening off his muscles, his cock standing to attention. Next to him Peter was panting lightly, not sweating yet but clearly fighting the urge to do something about his unattended and leaking cock. He moved to the bed to see what Peter thought he needed from their collection. A large quantity of silk cord lay next to a phial of oil a candle and a glass dildo. He let out a low whistle, his lover was obviously suffering more than he’d thought he was. Glancing back at the silent boys on the floor, he let one of the ropes slip through his hands as he considered a plan of attack. “Keep each other occupied for a few minutes.” He ordered.

Instantly, Peter’s mouth was on Caspian’s. The Prince responded eagerly, threading his fingers through the blonde hair and pulling the king down on top of him to the ground. Edmund stood transfixed as he slipped off his boots and shirt. He sat on the bed and openly watched them as Peter moved to straddle the brunette’s hips, peppering light kisses across his chest. Caspian’s head fell back with a moan and Edmund’s hand dropped to his lap to undo the lacing on his leggings. He sighed with relief as the pressure on his cock lifted and the temperature in the room became bearable again now he was half naked. Caspian and Peter were putting on quite a show for him but he feigned nonchalance, returning to the items on the bed. A throaty moan from both of them caught his attention and he turned to see Caspian’s hands on his brother’s hips, pulling their groins into contact. Both men had a look of bliss on their faces but Edmund felt annoyance building inside him.

He strode over and yanked Peter off the Prince by his shoulder. He pointed at the blonde. “You,” he growled “get over by the wall. Hands on your head.” Peter rushed to comply on shaky legs as Edmund turned on Caspian. He rounded on the young man, forcing himself to remember that Caspian hadn’t annoyed him on purpose. He was new to this and didn’t know all the rules yet. He dropped his voice another half octave for effect and stroked the brunette’s cheek with a finger “And you,” he said “get onto the bed and sit on your hands. You’ll damage your knees if you stay on the ground much longer.” He helped him to his feet and guided him onto the mattress. “If anything scares you, you have to say.” He reminded him. Caspian nodded and Edmund left him with a kiss on the cheek, gathering up the candle and the ropes.

He lit the candle from a nearby torch then set it on the ground to let the wax melt. He moved the torch to the next post along, leaving the bracket as an iron ring sticking out from the wall. He pressed himself up against Peter’s back, looping his arms around his brother and pulling him close. “Are you sure about this Peter?” He whispered.

Peter nodded. “I need this. All of it.”

Edmund sighed. “Ok.” And moved the hair from the back of the blonde’s neck to kiss it once. He stepped back and picked up the rope, taking Peter’s hands from his head and looping it around his wrists several times. He secured loosely to the wall bracket with a slip knot. Peter spread his legs and hung his head between his arms. Ed picked up the candle and blew it out. He raised it up and let the molten wax trickle over the king’s shoulder. Peter groaned and shifted in front of him and he repeated the motion on the other side. This time Caspian saw and gasped loudly. Edmund turned and his gaze met a pair of shocked eyes on the bed. He mentally berated himself for not explaining this before and moved closer to the boy who shrank back a little.

“You burn him?” Caspian demanded.

Edmund was impressed to see he’d stayed in position. He shook his head. “It’s not beeswax Caspian.” He insisted. “It’s from Archenland. It’s hot but it doesn’t burn.” Caspian didn’t look convinced. Edmund sighed. “A doctor over there used it to treat a back injury I had at the time. It’s hot when it goes on and then it just goes warm. Stick out your arm.” Caspian did as he was told, albeit reluctantly, and Edmund tipped a drop of wax onto his outstretched wrist. The boy hissed and jerked but calmed quickly and sat looking at it in wonder.

“It doesn’t hurt.” He said, his accent once again thick. “Not really anyway, it’s just the shock when it hits.”

Edmund nodded. He would have loved to introduce Caspian to this properly but the wax was rapidly cooling and Peter was his main priority at the moment. He got off the bed again and moved back to where his brother was tied silently, tipping the candle over his leg. Peter bucked and yelled as the wax made contact, pulling against the ropes that bound him. Edmund felt a surge of lust go through him at the power and slammed his brother against the wall, grinding his cock into the boy’s arse. “You like that Pete?” He breathed. “You want some more?” Peter mewled, his head thrown back against Edmund’s shoulder as he panted. Edmund stepped back and span him round so his back was against the wall. “It’s cooling too quickly in here,” he said “by my reckoning there’s one big pour left in it. Brace yourself.”

Peter grinned and tensed his body, holding onto the ropes and leaning against the wall. Edmund stepped forward quickly and kissed him. It threw the handsome blonde slightly and he felt him relaxed for a moment, in which time Edmund emptied the candle onto his chest. Peter yelled again, louder this time, his head thrashing. Ed dropped the candle and brought his hand to Pete’s straining cock, giving it a few quick strokes. When his hand came away again, there was a smear of precome on his finger. He lifted it to Peter’s face who eagerly started lapping it off. Peter sucked his finger hard and a jolt of pleasure went straight to Edmund’s cock.

He took his hand back and released the knot on the bracket. Peter slumped forward and he caught him, leading him with his hands still bound to the bed. Caspian hadn’t yet moved but shifted to give them more space, his cock bobbing in front of him as he did so. Edmund settled on the edge of the mattress, pulling Peter over his lap.

Caspian snorted. “You’re going to punish him like a child?”

Edmund raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know what you’re feeling so smug about Caspian, you’re next.” He said seriously. Caspian’s eyes widened in surprise then closed again in lust. Over his knees, Peter shook with laughter at this and Edmund brought his hand down sharply with a ‘CRACK!’ Peter started to swear but clamped his hands over his mouth to cut himself off. Edmund rubbed his back soothingly. “It’s alright Pete,” he murmured “you can be as vocal as you like.” Peter’s hands dropped again and he resumed the spanking. He hit him hard, alternating between slow rhythmic slaps and short bursts in quick succession along his thighs. By the time Edmund counted thirty hits Peter was pink from hip to knee and there was nowhere new left to touch. He rested for a while, rubbing the enflamed flesh soothingly as Peter’s body shook and he panted from yelling himself hoarse.

“Caspian?” he called. Instantly the boy was at his side. He stroked his hair affectionately. “Pass me the oil would you?” It was handed to him and he slicked up one finger generously and pressed it to Peter’s hole. It slipped in without trouble and Peter moaned quietly from somewhere near the floor. He slicked up a second and it joined the first, pumping slowly and looking for the spot that would drive his brother wild. An undignified yelp told him he’d found it. He kept pumping, stroking it gently and turned back to Caspian. “Could you pass me the dildo?” He asked.

“The what?”

“The glass thing that looks like a cock.” Caspian obliged and Edmund held it up. “Cover it with oil.” Caspian did as he was told and Edmund felt Peter shudder with anticipation. He pulled out his fingers and, with one hand on the blonde’s back to hold him still, worked the dildo in gently. He quickly found the right angle and Peter started swearing again, louder this time, his cock poking into Edmund’s thigh. He stilled his movements to a loud complaint by Peter about how close he was and pulled Caspian round so that he too sat on the end of the bed near Peter’s feet. He took one of the Prince’s hands and covered it with his own on the dildo. “You see that angle?” He asked. Caspian nodded mutely. “Keep moving it at that angle.” The glass cock started to move again and Peter resumed his verbal assault. Edmund wrapped an arm around the blonde to hold him still and raised his hand again. He brought it down hard on an already pink patch and Peter howled, his body stiffening. Caspian froze. “Keep going.” Edmund instructed. He raised his hand again and brought it down on another pink patch. Peter yelled but Edmund didn’t stop. He brought it down once more and Peter suddenly broke, flopping bonelessly over his knee and breaking down into sobs. Edmund put a hand on Caspian’s wrist to still him and pulled the dildo out gently.

He pulled his crying brother up and hugged him, unsurprised that he was still rock hard. He pushed him face down onto the bed, stroking his hair. “Lie there.” He said. “Just lie there and calm down for a while.” Peter nodded and visibly relaxed, sighing contentedly as the tears continued to trickle down his nose.

Edmund turned back to Caspian who was still hard but looked faintly terrified. “Is that going to happen to me?” He asked.

Edmund laughed and pulled the brunette to his side. “God no, that’s just Peter. That’s just what it takes to get him to let go of everything. As a general rule when it comes to submission, the less it looks like he should be enjoying himself, the more fun he’s having.” Caspian looked encouraged and manoeuvred himself over Edmund’s lap without prompting. He stroked the pale bottom in front of him. “Eager are we?” He asked.

Caspian shrugged and grinned. “He’s still hard.”

Edmund snorted and brought his hand down onto Caspian’s arse, albeit more gently than he had with Peter. Caspian didn’t shout but he wriggled. On the fourth stroke he moved in such a way that his cock came into contact with Edmund’s leg and by the tenth he was openly humping his thigh, trying to get off. The problem for Edmund was that every time the boy moved, his torso rubbed his own cock in the most delicious way. Shock after shock of pleasure went through him and he felt himself spanking faster just to get more friction. He felt himself getting close to orgasm and knew that Caspian must be too. He stood up suddenly to stop himself from spanking the boy to completion and bit his lip in frustration at the loss of sensation. He looked down at the boy on the floor and pointed a finger at him accusingly. “You,” he said “are trouble. Come with me.”

He grabbed a spare rope and lead Caspian towards. He motioned the boy should sit on a pillow then tied his hands to a bedpost behind his back. He smiled sweetly at the boy. “Just in case you were tempted to touch yourself. Peter!” He said sharply, beckoning him to the foot of the bed. Peter pushed himself off the mattress gingerly and moved to where Edmund was standing. The dark haired king picked up the loose end of the rope that still bound his hands and tied him firmly to the bed post. He pulled off his leggings, his skin grateful for the chance to breathe, and grabbed the oil. He slicked himself up quickly, worried that he would give in and come on the spot otherwise. He put his cock against Peter’s hole and whispered hotly in his ear.

“I hope you liked your dildo Peter, coz it’s all the preparation you’re going to get.” He pushed in slowly, mindful of hurting his brother, until he was finally fully seated. Peter was tight, oh god was Peter tight, and he could feel the room getting far too hot again as little beads of sweat broke out on his face. Peter moaned as Edmund started to move, angling his every thrust so that it hit Peter’s prostate and made him see stars. He felt himself getting to close again and slowed down, his ears deaf to the protests it got him. His eyes flicked over to Caspian, who was pulling furiously against his restraints, pearls of precome all over the head of his cock. He took pity and with effort he managed to pull out of Peter, who screamed loudly in frustration, and crawled back onto the bed.

He settled down between the Prince’s legs and gave the head of his cock, by now an angry purple, an experimental flick of the tongue. Caspian’s head flew back against the bed post with a moan and Edmund took the head into his mouth, licking and sucking at it gently. Caspian cried openly and begged him. “Please Edmund, please. I – I can’t take it, I have to – I have to… Please…” He trailed off into incoherency and Edmund sucked harder, pleased too see the boy thrashing underneath him. His jaw was beginning to hurt and his own need was throbbing beneath his legs but he ignored both; Caspian needed this. He moved away from the head and licked his way up the shaft. Above him Caspian shuddered and finally broke, all rational thought given over to the need to come. Edmund moved back to the head and swallowed him whole, relishing the feel as his cock slipped down his throat. He let Caspian buck into his mouth as he needed to and gave him one long suck as he was pushing in. The prince tensed under him and then bitter come was splashing down his throat. He kept sucking until all the aftershocks had passed then lifted his head again. There was no question of Caspian feeling guilty anymore; he could barely keep his eyes open. He turned round to see Peter, who was watching him with hungry eyes from the foot of the bed.

“Is it my turn now?” He asked hopefully.

Edmund nodded and slicked up his cock again as he moved back to his lover. He grabbed Peter’s hips to give him better leverage and thrust back in with one smooth stroke. He didn’t much care about holding out this time and snapped his hips back and forth as fast as he could. In front of him Peter was screaming and he let go with one hand to reach round and grab his cock. Two pumps were all it took before Peter’s legs turned to jelly and he came with a strangled yell. The walls around Edmund became impossibly tight and then he was coming too, his vision turning white as Peter’s arse continued to milk him.

It wasn’t until consciousness came floating back to him that he realised they were on the floor together, Peter still bound to the bed. He untied him clumsily and they stumbled onto the mattress. He untied Caspian and the three of them settled down quietly.

“How do we get the wax off?” Caspian asked.

“It just peels off easily.” Peter answered. “Now go to sleep.”

Caspian leaned over to kiss Peter deeply then did the same for Edmund. “Thank you.” He whispered, snuggling down to Ed’s side.

“It’s ok.” Ed mumbled, coherent speech still a problem.

On his other side Peter did the same. “I love you.” His lover said.

“I love you too.” Edmund yawned. “Let’s just hope you don’t have to ride a horse tomorrow.”

They all laughed quietly and within minutes two sets of snoring could be heard. Edmund stayed awake a while longer, feeling content. Tomorrow he could go back to being second in command, safe in the knowledge that Peter would be able to lead his troops once more.

FIN

Please Comment.

WHAT HE NEEDS

Mon, 22 Jun 2009 00:18:21 GMT

Title: What He Needs
Pairing: Edmund/Caspian, implied future Peter/Edmund/Caspian
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Fluff methinks, also angst. Tiny bit of character study.
Warnings: Boys kissing boys. Other than that, nothing to report.
Wordcount: 1842
Summary: Movieverse, EPOV. Post White Witch incident; Caspian needs someone to talk to.

King Edmund the Just stormed through the corridors of Aslan’s How, completely ignoring the Narnians who stopped whatever they were doing to bow as he passed them. It had been almost 20 years since he last saw her face but it frightened him now just as it had then how close they had all been to falling under her spell. He couldn’t really blame Caspian; he’d never met her before but Peter? Peter should have known better.

He stumbled on the uneven earth and caught himself on the wall, breathing heavily and trying to calm himself. After a few minutes of fighting back angry tears his heart rate had returned to normal and he was about to turn back when the sound of distant yelling reached his ears. He followed it curiously round the corner into a dimly lit, yet incredibly hot, training chamber. The source of the yelling turned out to be Prince Caspian, who was stabbing a straw dummy of a soldier furiously with his sword. Even in the low torchlight Edmund could see the sweat on his forehead and the determination in his clenched jaw. He couldn’t help admiring the Prince’s form and balance or how handsome he was, all lithe and athletic. Caspian stopped his stabbing and started hacking at the dummy, causing huge piles of straw to burst forth from the slash marks in the sack cloth. He leaned against the wall and snorted amusedly. “I think it’s dead you know.”

Caspian span on the spot, his sword raised to attack, but then two pairs of brown eyes met and he lowered his weapon quickly with an embarrassed bow. “I am sorry,” he apologised, his accent thick with emotion “forgive me for raising arms against you Sir; I was not expecting anyone to come here.”

Edmund raised an eyebrow at the way the young man (little more than a boy really, he thought to himself) shifted his weight awkwardly from foot to foot and stared at the floor. “So I’m Sir but my big brother’s a useless idiot is he?” He asked, still amused. He sat down on a nearby bench and indicated that Caspian should join him. The Prince hesitated for a moment but followed and Edmund observed him biting his lip nervously before he spoke.

Caspian sighed heavily. “I was wrong to insult your brother.” He murmured. “I hope you will forgive me. I did not trust my own ability to lead, to make any difference at all to the way that Narnia is, and so I refused to believe in his. I took out my frustrations on him. I am sorry.”

“You’re apologising to the wrong person.” Edmund said. “So why am I Sir all of a sudden?”

The Telmarine turned to face him. “Because you never took out your frustrations on me, Sir. Because you never insulted my people unjustly or my lineage. Because for all your brother’s pomp and ceremony you are the one who is actually ‘running the show’ as Queen Lucy would put it.”

The King nodded, making a note to talk to Lucy later about who she spoke to about the internal politics of the Pevensies. He was jolted from his thoughts by Caspian talking again.

“May I speak frankly with you King Edmund?”

Edmund nodded. “Please do.”

“I am worried about High King Peter.” Edmund’s eyebrows shot up to meet his fringe but he motioned for his friend to carry on. Caspian’s eyes returned to the floor. “I always imagined him as a pillar of strength. And he’s really quite different in person…” He trailed off.

Edmund considered how to answer this for a moment. “What you’re seeing” he started “is High King Peter as a child. What happened to him was that he went from being the most important man in the world to being a lowly peasant in an instant.” Caspian looked shocked. Edmund nodded. “It’s true. The shock affected him badly; he still hasn’t really got over it. I think he assumed that when he got back to Narnia things would go back to the way they were in the Golden Age. None of us were prepared for the length of time that has passed. So he’s got all these memories of how to lead and all the experience of battle of a man, but all the motivations and though processes of a boy.” Caspian was still glaring at the floor, but Edmund could see the beginnings of understanding and self-recognition in his face. Good, he thought. “It’s like when you’re lost for words.” He explained. “You know what you want to communicate, but you can’t for the life of you work out how to do it. And so he’s trying to lead, trying to be a man, but he’s not. He’s just a boy.”

Caspian’s face was set in self loathing. “But you’re not as useless as us.” He whispered.

Edmund placed his hand on the other boy’s knee. “I accepted what I was.” He said. “And once you know that you’re a boy and you can only take things at a child’s pace you stop having unrealistic expectations of yourself and you can start to make some progress.

Caspian seemed to take it all in, drawing his knee’s up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. To Edmund’s eyes he looked unbearably young. “I idolised you,” he whispered, “both of you; when I listened to the stories from my nurse-maid. I used to hear all the wonderful tales of you battles and your wisdom. How can I possibly compare to that?”

The dark King smiled at his memories. “Some men are born great, some achieve greatness and some have greatness thrust upon them.”

Caspian glanced up at him. “And which one are you?”

Edmund laughed. “We like to think we’re all three.”

Caspian smiled weakly and let his feet touch the floor again. “I guess I took it all out on your brother because he was always the great warrior in the stories. That and he seemed to be in charge for a while.”

Edmund tipped his head back against the wall. “So you thought we’d all show up from Spare ‘Oom and in a puff of magic everything would be alright again?”

The Prince tipped his head back too, brushing his long hair from his eyes. “In all honesty? Yes.”

Edmund went to put his arm around Caspian’s slumped shoulders but the boy shrunk away. Edmund sent him a questioning look.

The Telmarine blushed. “King Edmund the Just shouldn’t sully himself with a worthless outcast.” He said bitterly. “I ruined the castle raid; I am responsible for the deaths of those Narnians. If I had done as I was told, they would still be alive. I do not deserve to be touched by anyone.”

Edmund rolled his eyes and pulled Caspian closer against him despite the protests, he had a feeling he’d got to the root of the problem now. “There were four of us in charge of that army.” He said. “Four. Part of being a King is accepting that sometimes you’re going to make mistakes. What determines what sort of King you are is what you do when those mistakes are made. You’re learning. In the first five years of our reign, I can think of 8 incidents off the top of my head in which our beloved Peter nearly caused war between ourselves and neighbouring countries.”

Caspian nodded into his shoulder, slightly more relaxed. “How long were you gone from Narnia in your time?”

“About a year.”

“And did you suffer in that time?”

“Oh God yes.” Edmund said. “Peter suffered the worst because he couldn’t really adapt. On the day we came back to Narnia, I had to return with a bleeding lip because he’d managed to get into a fight with a guy who’d barged into him. I jumped in to save Peter and this guy’s best friend punched me.”

Caspian drew back from Edmund, looking shocked. “In the old Narnia they would have been killed for their treason.”

“In Narnia, yes. But this happened in Spare ‘Oom.”

“How did you manage?” The Prince asked.

“We had a coping mechanism.” Edmund explained. “A very effective one in fact.”

Caspian looked excited. “Would you share it with me?” He asked. “I need to stop feeling like this. I want to die so this will end but I don’t want their faith in me to have been for nothing.”

Ed looked at him, considering his options. Everything in his body told him to do it, to take this impossibly handsome man into his arms and make him forget. He could feel the tension between them crackle, like it had when he and Peter had gone back to school and had had to wait almost a month to be together again because they were in separate dorms. He watched the Telmarine lick his lips hopefully and his patience broke. “I really hope Peter doesn’t mind this.” He muttered to himself and grabbed the sides of the of the Prince’s head, smashing their lips together. It took Caspian a moment to respond but then his hands were on Edmund’s shoulders, pulling him even closer. He slid his tongue across Caspian’s lips and pushed it inside as the other man moaned into him. He let their tongues lick and caress each other for a few minutes before pulling back for air. Instantly, the spell was broken.

Caspian blushed furiously and pushed himself as far away as the bench would permit. “I’m sorry.” He said hastily. “I do not know what came over me. I shouldn’t have kissed you. I am sorry. Legends should not sully themselves with Princes.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” Edmund laughed “Peter and I have sullied ourselves with quite a few Princes over the years. Now stop being silly.” He kissed him again and this time Caspian didn’t resist. Edmund kissed him slowly but thoroughly so that by the time they broke apart it seemed to take Caspian a few moments to remember where he was. “How do you feel now?” He asked with a grin.

“On the face of things I feel happier.” He admitted. “But the guilt is still there. It is still on my conscience, what has happened.”

Edmund stroked the Prince’s hair and tucked it behind his ear. “Well as long as that’s the case the Narnians are not going to get much further.” He stood up and offered his friend his hand. “I think a more intensive treatment is in order.” The Prince gladly took his hand and Edmund steered them out of the room.

“Where are we going?” Caspian asked. “My chambers are the other way.”

“Oh I know that,” Edmund said lightly, “I thought we might go find Peter. Maybe the three of us can work this out together.” He didn’t miss the way Caspian’s face lit up and fought to ignore both the urge to smile and the way his stomach did a funny little backflip in anticipation.

END PART 1 – TBC

(A/N: the next part’s called ‘What They Need’. Does anyone want to take a wild stab in the dark as to what’s planned for that one?)

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TRUST ME, I'M A DOCTOR

Sun, 14 Jun 2009 22:31:16 GMT

Title: Trust me, I’m a doctor.
Pairing: Will/Skan
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Smut, veering wildly towards PWP
Wordcount: 2084
Warnings: Contains roleplay
Summary: Something Will’s always wanted to try. Prompt by amaya425, it’s taken me a while to write this.
Disclaimer: Not mine, not claiming that this ever happened.

Skandar Keynes shifted in his chair and fiddled with the strap on his bag. The nerves were still growing in his stomach and he checked the clock on the wall for the millionth time. Behind him a door opened.

“Skandar Keynes?”

He got to his feet and straightened his school uniform before following the voice into another room. A handsome blonde man wearing a labcoat and a nondescript set of shirt, tie and trousers held the door open for him to come through and then shut it behind him afterwards. “Hello Mr Keynes,” he said with a smile “do take a seat, I’m Dr Moseley.” They shook hands and Skandar sat down awkwardly. Dr Moseley did the same but with a good deal more ease. “Nothing to worry about…” he glanced at a file in front of him “Skandar, just a check up. A couple of measurements, a few awkward questions and then you’ll be on your way. So, any major problems since your last checkup?”

Skandar shook his head mutely, fascinated by the way the handsome doctor’s hands moved as he made a tiny note on his file. He could imagine those hands wrapped around his cock, milking him. He forced himself to snap back to the present, it would be far too embarrassing if he got hard here. He looked back up at Dr Moseley’s face.

“Any change in medications at all that I don’t know about?”

He shook his head again.

“Still just on the hayfever pills?”

He nodded, starting to feel slightly more at ease.

Dr Moseley stood up. “Right then Mr Keynes, if you could get up for a moment, we’ll just take your height and weight and then let you sit down again while I have a listen to your heart. Just leave your jacket and shoes with your bag.”

He did as he was told and stood still while the doctor measured his height and armspan. He was standing much closer now and Skandar could smell musk coming off him. His cock twitched and he forced himself to think of something else, anything else, to stop it being noticed. He opened his eyes, which he had screwed tight shut, when the Moseley started talking again.

“Well you’re slightly taller than average Skandar and at your age I think you’ve pretty much stopped growing. Slightly skinny for your height though. Nothing to worry about I don’t think, just eat a few more Mars bars and you should see that rise. You can sit down again now.”

He sat back down on the chair again and thought about putting his clothes back on but left it. It would be easier just to do it all at the end. Dr Moseley pulled out a stethoscope.

“Right, just going to listen to your heart and lungs now Mr Keynes. Do you want to undo your shirt or just take it off? Either one is fine.”

Skandar blushed. “Erm, I think I’ll just take it off.” As he was slipping his tie over his head he noticed the doctor raising an eyebrow at his blush. Thankfully he didn’t say anything about it and Skandar quickly shrugged his shirt off. He felt a bit silly sitting there in just his trousers but the blonde in front of him didn’t seem to find it strange at all. He jumped when the stethoscope touched him. Moseley grimaced and rubbed it on his shirt.

“Yes, sorry about that, it can be a bit cold at times.” He brought it back to his chest again listening first to the left, then to the right and finally along the side of his ribcage. “Very good, if you could just swivel around for me Skandar.”

Skandar jumped again as a strong, warm hand was placed on his shoulder, turning him gently where he sat. The doctor was close enough for Skandar to smell the musk again and it made his heart skip a beat. He tried and failed to not think about the doctor’s wonderful hands and what they could be doing to him as he listened to his back. The hand left his shoulder and he turned back round to see his doctor frowning.

“Your heart rate’s a bit high actually Skandar, is that usually a problem for you?”

He shook his head, desperately willing his erection to subside.

“Very well then. Come back and let me know if it persists and we’ll get it checked out. Now you might find the next bit a bit awkward but I assure you it’ll be fine. I just need to check your testicles for any unusual lumps and bumps. So if you could just slip out of your clothes and get on the bed, we’ll get that over and done with. Would you like a robe to cover yourself?”

Skandar wasn’t sure if he’d invented it, but he thought he’d heard a challenge in his voice. He stuck his chin up and grinned. “No thanks, I’ll be fine.” The doctor nodded and went to put on a pair of latex gloved while he stripped himself and sat on the bed. A hand on his chest pushed him against the pillows.

“Just relax Mr Keynes, that’s right.” His movements were gentle but thorough as he squeezed Skandar’s balls. To his horror he started daydreaming again, thinking of all the other situations in which this man could be squeezing his balls. His eyes shot open to see his cock was hard and he groaned in embarrassment.

Dr Moseley saw it but seemed unphased. “I wouldn’t worry about it Skandar, it’s a common think with teenage boys, I’m quite used to it. You’re completely normal by the way.” He stepped back from the bed for a moment. “Nearly done now, just the prostate check.”

Skandar propped himself up on his elbows and looked up at him incredulously.

The blonde’s smile faltered for a moment. “Ah, did no one mention this to you?”

He shook his head quickly.

“Oh well, not a problem. What’s essentially going to happen is that I need to put just a couple of fingers into your anus to check everything’s working as it should do.”

Skandar blushed again at ‘anus’. “Is it going to hurt?”

The doctor frowned while snapping open a bottle of lube. “It shouldn’t do.” He said. “It might be a little uncomfortable, but it shouldn’t hurt and my fingers will be well lubricated. Right, so if you could get onto your hands and knees for me…”

Skandar complied, his stomach fluttering wildly. It was a bit surreal really, to be kneeing on a bed completely naked with a hard on and a doctor about to shove his fingers up your arse. He shuddered and rolled his eyes at himself; his cock had begun to leak. Really, he thought, you’re only making it worse.

He jumped as a cold finger touched his hole, circling gently. The doctor put his other gloved hand on the small of his back to steady him as he pushed his finger in to the hilt. Skandar let out the breath he’d been holding, encouraged that it hadn’t hurt at all. A second finger joined the first and he gasped and dropped his head onto the mattress as the fingers started moving within him. They hit his prostate and he bit his lip against a moan. He fought the urge to push back or cry out, worried that the doctor would mistake it for pain and stop this sweet torture. Instead, he increased the pace slightly and then slightly more and Skandar felt himself creeping closer and closer to oblivion. He could feel the tingling in his toes that happened when he was close to coming move up his legs towards his knees. He started trembling with the effort not to touch himself as Moseley picked up the pace again, hitting his sweetspot with every thrust. His fingers were pistoning in and out of him now and his free hand had moved from his back to his hip. The fingers inside of him twisted and he let out a yell as his vision went momentarily white with the pleasure that shot through his body. But suddenly the fingers inside of him were gone. He whined at their loss and heard a very smug tone in his doctor’s voice.

“Are you alright Mr Keynes? Maybe we should stop now, everything seems fine.”

He looked dangerously over his shoulder at the grinning blonde. “Oh for God’s sake Will just fuck me already!”

Will laughed and dropped character, snapping off the gloves and shooting them somewhere across the room. Skandar turned his head back round and felt a delicious shiver go through him at the sounds of a zip being undone and Will hissing at the coldness of the lube. And then there were a pair of hands on his hips and Will’s cock was at his hole, pushing in slowly. Skandar didn’t have the patience to wait for Will to become fully seated he was so desperate to come and pushed back sharply, moaning at the feeling of being stretched. He clenched his muscles around his boyfriends cock and was rewarded with a throaty cry from behind him. He felt a stinging slap on his rear and Will growled at him. “Stop that.” He commanded.

Skandar laughed and did it again, loving the slap he got to the other arse cheek as the man behind him started to move.

Will set a punishing pace, his hips snapping back and forth and Skandar knew this wouldn’t last long. He wasn’t ready for it at first and fell onto his elbows before he’d had a chance to brace himself. The change of angle pushed Will even deeper into him and a half-chocked moan echoed down from above him. Will changed his angle and his cock started hitting Skandar’s prostate more and more frequently. He was trembling again now, stuck on the brink of orgasm with shockwaves of pleasure going through him with every thrust but never quite enough to push him over the edge. The room was getting too hot for him now, he could feel the sweat trickling down his neck. Had he been in a sentient frame of mind he would have mused that things must be twice as bad for Will who was still fully dressed, but he was too busy rocking his hips into his lovers cock and trying to come before his need to do so crossed the pleasure/pain borderline to care. He hung his head and whimpered as Will’s thrusts became faster and more erratic, signalling that he was going to come soon. He clamped his muscles down as hard as he could to try and draw attention to his plight and a hand shot round from his hip and grabbed his cock, pumping furiously. It was enough. Skandar’s whole body shook violently as his orgasm coursed through him. His arse muscles spasmed around the cock that was still hitting his prostate and jets of come coated the hand that was stroking him. His bones turned to jelly as the hand and cock forced him to ride out the aftershocks and Will’s free arm wrapped around his chest to stop him from falling into the mattress. He clenched his arse in thank you and Will came hard with a shout of “FUCK!”

Skandar smiled tiredly that he’d managed to make William Moseley swear as his boyfriend flopped onto his back, pinning him against the bed. Just as he was about to complain about not being able to breathe, the weight lifted and Will stumbled into the middle of the room to take his clothes off. Skandar turned his head to watch his boyfriend strip. “Where’d you get the labcoat?” He asked as Will crawled back into bed.

“Fancy dress.” He yawned and pulled Skandar closer, tangling their legs. “Thanks for indulging me.”

Skandar brushed a stray lock from blue eyes. “I had fun indulging you. And I have to say I’m impressed at how well you stayed in character.”

Will sighed theatrically. “We’re actors Skan. Isn’t that kind of out job?” He propped himself up on an elbow. “So, you want to go out tomorrow night? Ben’s having a birthday party in a club off Old Compton Street.”

“Is that wise?” Skandar asked. “We could be seen.”

Will grinned cheesily at him. “Hey,” he said “trust me, I’m a doctor.”

Skandar just rolled his eyes and kissed him in reply.

FIN.

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The tale of William and Skan - part 2

Sat, 13 Jun 2009 10:43:49 GMT

Title: The tale of William and Skan

Pairing: William Moseley/ Skandar Keynes

Rating: NC-17

Genre: Romance

Wordcount: 4443

Summary: AU, Narnia never happened. English Private school. This is how William Moseley fell in love with the new boy.

It was about 2 weeks into the summer holiday when Will finally noticed that his friends seemed worried. They called a lot more often than they usually would and seemed determined that he should spend no more that 10 minutes alone in his own house over the course of 48 hours. At first it had been great, a stream of near endless parties and games nights and then movie nights and punting on the river and then a quick dash home for a shower and a change of clothes before they ran down to the pub and repeated the exercise again. But after a week it had started to take its toll and he found himself refusing their offers of company more and more often. Unfortunately, they seemed to mistake his need to sleep for depression and redoubled their efforts so that by the end of week 2 he had shut down his computer, turned off his phone for the first time in three years and instructed his mother to just take a message if she happened to be in when they called on him, he was just too tired to see any of them.

Regrettably, when he started spending time with no one but himself, he started to see what they had been trying to protect him from. Sitting in front of the tele or lying in bed, it wouldn’t take long before his thoughts returned to a certain dark haired boy that was currently on the other side of the world to him. And then he would inevitably end up wishing that he’d had the balls to kiss him after their too-long hug or at least to get his phone number to stay in touch over the summer. And the more he thought about it the further back he could see missed opportunities that had presented themselves to make the boy his own. He missed Skandar, there was no denying it. In fact, there were times when he missed the boy so much that it physically hurt and all that he could do was to take some painkillers and try to sleep it off. His mother walked in on him taking them once and told him quite firmly that there was no way on earth that they would cure what he had, which she promptly diagnosed as love sickness. Will had scoffed at this at first but after four more nights of crying himself to sleep only to dream of Skandar and to wake up hard and sweating, he had to come to the conclusion that she was right.

Halfway through the summer holidays he gave in and turned his phone on again to call Ben. He was touched to see that he had 173 missed calls and 58 unread texts. He shuddered to think what it would do to his computer when he turned it on to check his emails.

Ben picked up on the second ring. “Will!” He said, sounding slightly panicked “Where are you? Where’ve you been?”

“I’m at home,” Will replied, his voice still hoarse from the latest bout of crying “I’ve always been at home.”

Ben sounded like he was trying to calm a startled pet. “Ok Will I’m going to come over, is that all right? I’d like to see how you’re doing.”

“Sure.” He said. “Whatever, I’m in no hurry to go anywhere.”

Will heard a door slam and the sounds of traffic. “Yeah well make sure you don’t Moseley.” Ben said firmly. “I’ll be there in 20 minutes.”

Will hung up and threw the phone back onto his bed. Glancing around the room he cringed, his usually pristine domain looked rather like a bomb had hit it. A mixture of worn and unworn clothes littered the floor and hung over the top of curtains that hadn’t been opened for at least a week. He pulled on the nearest t-shirt that smelled clean enough and braved a look in the mirror; he was a mess. The dark circles under his eyes had grown so deep that they now fought for space with his cheekbones; his stubble had grown past any acceptable length and now looked more like a pathetic attempt for a beard and his teeth were almost the same colour as a banana. He was on his way to the bathroom to try and make himself look more human when Ben started pounding on the front door. Will rolled his eyes at his friend’s inability to use a doorbell and padded down the stairs to meet him.

To say that the man looked horrified would have been an understatement. He gulped twice before pushing past the blonde into the house, apparently not trusting himself to speak. William followed him into the kitchen and sat up on the counter. “You look like shit.” His friend said.

William opened his mouth to defend himself but couldn’t think of a reasonable argument and closed it again and nodded.

“We were worried about you.” He continued. “All of us. It’s not like you to stay inside by yourself all the time. And then you stopped talking online and then you stopped answering texts and then we came here to talk some sense into you and your mum said you weren’t receiving visitors. What the hell happened Will?”

The blonde shrugged feebly. “My phone was off.”

“Your phone was off?” Ben asked incredulously. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Christ Will, I know he’s on the other side of the world right now but it’s only for the summer. He’ll be home in three weeks and I really doubt he’ll be happy to know that his boyfriend-”

“Boyfriend?” Will interrupted.

“Skandar.”

“We’re not together.” He muttered bitterly, staring at his toes. He wondered for a moment when he last washed them. Some time ago if his general aroma was anything to go by.

“You broke up? Is that what this is about? God mate, you need to talk to us about these things once in a while.”

Will sighed and tried to run a hand through his hair but it was matted and greasy and his fingers got stuck before they’d cleared the fringe. “We haven’t broken up.” He said slowly, looking up at his friend again. “We were never going out.”

“What?” Ben whispered.

Will cleared his throat. “We were never going out. We never see each other outside maths, when we do see each other we only talk about maths. I don’t even have his phone number.”

Ben snorted. “You’re worse with boys than Jimmy is with girls.” He noted.

“Hey,” Will said defensively “I’m not useless with boys. Just – this one. And anyway, why on earth would you think we were dating?”

“Good point, let me think. Well, there are the wishful looks you send across assembly just about every day, then there’s the way your ears go red every time we pass him in the corridors,” Will fingered his ears self consciously at this, he was sure he’d managed to outgrow that particular tell “then we also have the way you’re perfectly prepared to gossip about anyone BUT him, of whom we never hear a word. There’s the way you ‘subtly’ sent your version of events about him and Mitchell around in April and last but not least we have the tiny detail of your outburst at the party, following which neither you or Skandar was seen for the rest of the night.”

“We weren’t having sex.” Will blurted.

Ben rolled his eyes. “Well we know that now, but it’s gonna take some convincing for the rest of the people at the party to believe that.”

The blonde shrugged. “He got me an icepack then he called his mum and went home. God I wish we’d been fucking.”

The brunette nodded and pushed off the wall he’d been leaning against and hugged Will.

It occurred to him how different it was hugging a friend and hugging Skandar. When he hugged Skandar he could happily see the wind change and be stuck that way forever, never letting go. As the seconds ticked by hugging Ben though, he became increasingly aware of how hot two bodies become in close confinement and the slight awkwardness that was growing between them. He pushed away with a few thumps to the other’s back, wiping his eyes.

“He’s pretty, I’ll give him that.”

Will had a feeling his friend had said it to avoid a silence but he snorted at it none the less. “Only a straight boy would think him ‘pretty’ Ben. And anyway, who are you to lecture me about my love life? How are you and Anna getting on?”

Ben stiffened imperceptibly. “We’re fine thank you. Now go and have a shower, we’re meeting the gang in the pub at four.”

******************

The music was loud and annoying, the wine was cheap and almost tasteless and true to his word, Skandar had not invited any of Will’s friends. And yet, against all odds, he found himself quite enjoying this party. Tweedledum and tweedledee turned out to have names and were apparently called Michael and Eric. They had spent the first hour he had been there swooning over his new car, a jaguar he had inherited when a great uncle he’d never heard of had died a few weeks ago from a heart attack. After they had exhausted that topic they got talking to him about music and Will found them to be quite interesting, along with the rest of Skandar’s friends. He almost wished he’d introduced himself a long time ago. The sandy haired boy from the incident in the library was called George and spent his entire time snogging his girlfriend on the sofa who spoke with a thick Yorkshire accent and for some inexplicable reason was names Georgie. He’d spent the evening so far playing twister and trying to work out whether he considered this amusing or pathetic.

He was quite annoyed about twister really. Normally, he would have been able to kick all their arses into the middle of next week but his clothes were rather constricting. He hadn’t chosen them himself, no, the gang had set their girlfriends on him and he’d been dragged from pillar to post in town finding the perfect outfit. Personally, he still couldn’t see what was wrong with a decent geek t-shirt, comfy jeans and some converse, this was a 16^th birthday party not London fashion week, but instead he’d been dressed in light grey jeans so tight he was surprised he’d been able to drive here without them splitting, a black shirt that was semi see-through (or ‘sheer’ as the girls preferred it to be known) with gold stripes and black Chelsea boots. He’d spent quite a bit of time looking at himself from different angles in the changing rooms earlier that day. “I’m still not sure.” He’d said. “I think it’s the jeans. No matter what we put with them I still feel slightly like a rent boy.” Anna had just laughed and told him that meant they were perfect.

Skandar bounded up to him, half full wine glass in hand. “Hi Will!” He said cheerfully.

Will was delighted that Skandar kept returning to him throughout the evening to chat and hug. He put his arm around the brunette. “Hello again trouble, have fun mingling?” Skandar pulled a face and Will laughed, taking a moment to appreciate his crush’s outfit. Somehow, he’d managed to be shopped for by kinder girls. His jeans were snug rather than obscenely tight and his shirt was a dark green that really complimented his skin. He felt his heart beat faster as Skandar put an arm around his waist and grimaced against the pain in his groin as his cock hardened against already too tight jeans. “You’re doing well,” he assured the handsome young man “everyone’s having a great time.”

Big brown eyes looked up at him. “Good.” He said. “Does that include you?”

Will shot him his most dazzling grin. “Of course.”

Skandar frowned for a moment and opened his mouth to say something important but was dragged away by a friend to blow out the candles on his birthday cake.

The evening wore on and people started drifting away until it was gone midnight and they were the only two left, sitting on Skandar’s sofa and sharing a bottle of wine between them. It suddenly occurred to Will in as he poured out another glass for each of them that he’d almost certainly drunk too much to drive himself home without dying.

Skandar seemed to catch his worry. “What’s up?”

“Erm, well it’s getting late,” he started “and I’ve drunk too much to drive. I’ll call Tom and get him to pick me up.”

“You know you could always stay here tonight.”

Will really hoped he hadn’t invented the hopeful tone in Skandar’s voice. “Are you sure?” He asked. “Won’t your parents mind?”

Skandar waved his hand. “Nah, they’ll be fine with it. Come on, I’ll show you my room.” He grabbed the wine bottle and walked out of the lounge.

Will felt a nervousness in his stomach that hadn’t existed sine he was 13 as they climbed the stairs. He rolled his eyes at himself for being so childish. Skandar’s room was smaller than his own and messier. Movie posters papered the walls and the shelves above his bed were filled with a mixture of dvds and what looked to be medical textbooks. On the floor a bed was already made out for him and he raised an eyebrow at Skandar who was sitting nervously on his bed. “You were expecting me?”

Skandar opened and closed his mouth twice before shrugging. “George thought he might need to stay over.” He offered weakly.

“Uh huh.” Will toed off his boots and joined Skandar on the bed, leaning against the wall and suddenly feeling a lot braver. Maybe the alcohol was starting to kick in, he mused.

They continued to share the bottle between them in silence for a while before Skandar spoke. “When did you know you were gay?” He asked. “Like for sure, no turning back kind of knowing.”

Will sighed and tipped his head back against the wall. “2001. Lord of the rings came out. I was 10 and I had the mother of all crushes on Aragorn. You?”

“2004, I was 12, Legolas.”

“Ahh,” Will teased “that would explain the poster by your bed.” He pretended to scrutinise it. “Funny, I was expecting little white stains.”

He was shoved over quite forcefully onto the mattress. Skandar straddled him quickly and poked him in the chest. “Bastard.” He said. “Complete and utter bastard, that’s what you are.”

There was a moment of silence in which they both stared at each other before Will’s hand rose unbidden and stroked the side of Skandar’s face. Skandar leaned into it and sighed and Will, feeling braver, moved his other hand up to tangle in the brunette’s hair and pull him down for a kiss. Their lips met softly, gently and with a little bit of awkwardness that told Will that Skandar really didn’t have much experience in this field. Predictably enough, Skandar’s lip movements became fiery and passionate quickly but Will slowed him down again and the younger boy yielded to his command and flattened their bodies together. Will moaned and stroked a hand down Skandar’s back as he felt a hardness in Skandar’s jeans poking into his thigh. He opened his mouth and slid his tongue across the other’s lips to ask for entry. Skandar complied enthusiastically, worming his tongue past his lips to do battle in Will’s mouth. Again Will slowed him down, determined not to let things get out of hand, stroking and sucking his new boyfriend’s tongue. But Skandar grew impatient and ground their cocks together through the jeans. Will gasped and nearly lost it as a rush of pleasure went through him. Somehow he managed to roll them over and move himself down Skandar’s body slightly so that the boy’s erection was now pressing into his stomach. “No.” He said firmly.

Skandar pouted adorably. “Why?” He demanded.

Will sighed and rested his forehead on Skandar’s chest. “Because you’re only just sixteen and you’re drunk and you’ll have no idea if this is what you really want in your current state of horniness and if we do it now there’s no guarantee you’ll be happy in the morning or you’ll even remember it. And if it is going to happen between us then I don’t want it to happen like that.”

Skandar pouted again but gave up. “Will you at least share my bed with me?” He asked.

Will smiled and nodded. “I think I can do that.” They stripped down to their boxers and crawled under the duvet together. Will’s last thought before he went to sleep was how much easier this would be in his own, significantly larger, bed and to make sure Skandar had permission to stay over after his birthday party in a fortnight’s time.

******************

By the time William’s 18^th arrived it seemed the entire planet knew that Moseley and Keynes were dating. At the girls’ school over the road opinion seemed split fairly evenly as to who was the luckier one in that relationship. It was generally agreed though, that both were utterly gorgeous and absolutely made for each other.

Their friends had wasted no time in merging the two groups together to form one, very large, group (age gap be damned) and although it had taken Skandar a while to stop complaining about being driven to school every day, he had eventually shut up when Will had pointed out how much this was saving him in bus fare. It had later occurred to him however that what they made up for in bus fare, they probably lost again in phone credit. For himself, Will could not be happier. He seemed to pass through the world with a constant smile on his face these days and people assured him it was infectious.

Will’s 18^th had been a big, brash thing organised by Peter and Edward who had thankfully been joking about the strippers. Huge banners and streams of balloons had covered the house and the cake they chose for him was so large that a bread knife had to be used in the end just to get through the icing. William had spent the evening with a mixture of enjoying himself and preventing Skandar from drinking more than he could cope with, which meant that it was now one in the morning and the boy had yet to touch a drop.

The people were gone. There was a large pile of presents and a larger cleanup operation downstairs, but it could all wait till morning. Will lead Skandar up to his room and stood nervously in the doorway, instantly noticing patches of carpet that he hadn’t vacuumed as well as the others and a stray shirt that had been left on his desk from the getting ready process.

Skandar looked uncomfortable. “Do you do anything but clean in here?” He asked.

Will laughed and moved him towards the king-size bed in the corner. “Some things,” he admitted “some things that are generally not suitable for the ears of children.”

Skandar opened his mouth to retort but Will silenced him with a kiss. As usual, Skandar tried to make the kiss hard and fast and for once Will let him, kissing back with as much passion as he could muster. He fisted his hand in the other boy’s hair and pulled his head back, fixing his lips onto the column of throat before him. He licked and sucked his way down to the collarbone, memorising which places that made him let out an undignified little mewl. He sat back to admire his handiwork and saw angry purple marks against the white skin that would almost certainly still be there tomorrow. A surge of lust ran through him to see his boyfriend marked like that for all to see as his. He pushed him down onto his back and kissed him again, thrusting his tongue into Skandar’s mouth. The dark haired boy didn’t give in easily and a battle for dominance ensued that Will nearly lost when Skandar grabbed his arse and pulled their groins into contact. Will growled into his mouth and ground their cocks together.

He was suddenly too hot and he fought to remain in control as Skandar started bucking and moaning underneath him. He pulled back to stop either of them getting too far gone too quickly and his boyfriend whimpered at the loss of contact. Will pulled his t-shirt over his head and Skandar quickly got the idea, fumbling with his own belt. In the time it took Will to get completely naked, Skandy had managed to get his fly undone. He smiled and shook his head, batting the elegant hands away and stripping the boy himself. He couldn’t help but admire the scene before him; there was no denying the boy was beautiful. He didn’t get a very thorough examination though for as soon as they were both naked Skandar had taken hold of Will’s cock and all coherent thought left him.

He threw his head back and let out a guttural moan as the sensations washed over him. Skandar’s movements, while clumsy at first, were quickly getting more refined. He squeezed and twisted at the same time and Will fought to remain kneeling up, closing his eyes to try and regain some control. The boy settled into a regular up-down rhythm and he felt himself zoning out on pleasure as he inched closer to his orgasm. He managed to reign in his senses for long enough to think that Skandar was annoyingly good at this for a beginner before he felt something lick his cock and he lost them all again.

His eyes shot open in time to see Skandar’s lips closing around the head curiously and give an experimental suck and he nearly lost it on the spot. He dug his nails into the palm of his hand to prevent himself from coming and let out a low hiss. Skandar seemed encouraged and started lapping at his head. Will looked down once and he was gone, bucking into Skandar’s lips as he shot white jets of cum over his face.

His knees gave way and he flopped down to sit on the bed and watch Skandar lick the cum from around his mouth. Will couldn’t think of anything hotter he’d seen in his entire life. “Where did you learn to do that?” He panted.

Skandar moved to sit next to him. “The internet.” He said, licking the final traces from his chin. “It doesn’t taste like mine does.”

Will’s breathing returned to normal. “Never does.” He grinned dangerously at the brunette. “Do you want to see something I first saw on the internet?”

Skandar looked apprehensive for a moment but then smiled. “Sure, why not.”

Will handed him a pillow. “Lie down and cover your mouth with that.” Skandar looked at him sceptically. “Just do it.” He said. “You’ll see why.” Skandar obeyed but still looked a little nervous. Will rubbed his leg comfortingly as he fumbled under his bed for the lube. “Calm down Skandy. Just close your eyes and relax. Don’t try and concentrate on anything, just let it all wash over you ok?” Skandar nodded and Will settled between his legs. He took a moment to study the member in front of him. Skandar was not small. Not huge yet, but above average and still with a couple of years growing in him. He wrapped his lips around the head and gave a slow suck. Skandar’s hips flew off the bed with a yelp as expected and Will pinned them easily with one arm. He kept licking and sucking until Skandar seemed to melt underneath him, relaxing completely.

He lubed up one finger and let it warm for a few moments before bringing it to his boyfriend’s hole. He circled in what he knew to be infuriatingly slow movements for a good few minutes before Skandar started to push on it impatiently. Will pushed up at the same time Skandar pushed down and his finger was fully seated in one swift movement. At the top of the bed the boy let out a muffled gasp at the new feeling but relaxed quickly under Will’s continued sucking. My God but Skandar was tight, Will thought. He moved his head and started sucking his balls, taking first one and then the other into his mouth as he applied lube to a second finger. He worked this in slowly, pausing often to let him get used to being stretched like that. He scissored his fingers inside the boy, trying to find the magic spot that would make it all better again. A muted yell told him when he found his prostate. He moved back to Skandar’s cock, licking and sucking enough to tease but not to get him off as he thrust his fingers in and out of the boy’s arse, making sure he got Skandar’s sweet spot every time. Skandar’s mewling became more and more persistent and Will had to move his free arm to hold his hips down as he sped up his fingers. Skandar’s hand fisted in his hair and pushed him further onto his cock, indicating that he’d had enough. In an instant Will doubled the speed of his fingers and swallowed his cock to the hilt, loving the way it felt as it slipped down his throat. Skandar screamed and in less than a minute he was jerking his hips and spilling his seed down Will’s throat. Will kept pumping and sucking, determined to wring out the first orgasm he gave Skandy. Eventually the boy flopped boneless back onto the bed and Will removed his fingers carefully and let the now soft cock fall from his mouth. He crawled up the bed to a heavily panting Skandar and pushed the sweaty hair from his eyes, kissing him softly.

“You’re trying to kill me.” Skandar breathed.

Will laughed quietly and lay on his back, pulling Skandar on top of him. Skandar nuzzled into his chest and he pulled the duvet up over their rapidly cooling bodies. “I love you Skandy.” He whispered.

“Love you too.” Was the reply.

Will lay awake for a while, listening to the tiny snores coming from his chest and playing with their owner’s hair before he too slipped into a contented sleep.

THE END

Please comment.

The tale of William and Skan

Tue, 09 Jun 2009 01:00:13 GMT

Title: The tale of William and Skan
Pairing: William Moseley/ Skandar Keynes
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Romance
Warnings: Boys kissing boys, bit of swearing, graphic sex, the usual. Also minor angst and moderate violence.
Wordcount: 6322
Summary: AU, Narnia never happened. English Private school. This is how William Moseley fell in love with the new boy. What he does about it will be written at a later date.

William Moseley covered his yawn with his hand and tried to stay awake. At the front of the school hall the headmaster was saying something about last year’s leavers being the best they’d ever had, tribute to the school etc, and that he hoped this year’s would do just as well. For the life of him though, Will couldn’t work out why he had to be in school at 8 30 in the morning to hear a speech aimed at a group of people in the year above him. Glancing to his left he noticed that his best friend had fallen asleep again and nudged him gently with his knee so that he was awake in time to applaud as the new head-boy shook hands with the headmaster and started giving his own speech about how tremendously pleased he was to have this opportunity to serve the school that had given him so much. Self-righteous little prick Will thought, still bitter that his own application had been rejected in favour of someone in the year above with two parents on the board of governors; he had spent most of the last week moping and telling anyone that would listen that it was all a conspiracy. Still he mused as HB (Head Bitch) moved back to his seat there was one more shot at it before he went to university.

His hand was on the strap of his bag to get up and leave when the headmaster started talking again. “Wait a moment gentlemen,” he called over the sound of scraping chairs and bags being dropped to the floor again “we have just a couple announcements; although it is nice to see you all so enthusiastic to get to your lessons.” He said with a wry smile. The entire school rolled its eyes. “Firstly, I wish to extend a warm welcome to all the new boys joining us this year from their old schools. I’m sure you will find us a wonderful place to grow and develop into the best young men you can possibly be.” There was a burst of short, disinterested applause from the older boys and Will glanced over to the other side of the assembly where about 80 boys sat with their blazers drowning them, each sporting an identical blush of embarrassment. The head continued “And also to Mr Skandar Keynes who will be joining us this year from his school in London. Welcome.” William turned in his seat to see where the headmaster had gestured. To his very great surprise he saw ‘Skandar’ had stood up to make sure everyone got a good look at him and gave a small bow. This elicited a much louder round of applause and even a couple of wolf whistles. ‘Skandar’ just laughed and curtsied this time before sitting down again. The headmaster smiled and shook his head as he walked out of the hall, signalling that they could all be on their way.

William frowned at this unusual behaviour as he made his way to maths with the guys, pushing his way through the hundreds of boys all trying to get to their lessons as slowly as possible without actually being late. Usually whenever a boy entered their school part way through his education, he would try and do it with the minimum amount of fuss and bother. They’d just try and slip in quietly and hope that no one noticed. This one on the other hand seemed to want his arrival known to everyone, even if that meant he had to announce it himself. He groaned inwardly as something clicked. The boy was almost certainly an actor if today’s performance was anything to go by and he really didn’t want him in his Shakespeare society. It wasn’t that Will was scared the boy might out-perform him or steal his leads; it was that he’d be a bloody nightmare. Always farting around and never taking it seriously and Will had the society’s reputation to uphold goddamnit. A hand waved in front of his face.

“Earth to Will? Will? Are you all right?” Its owner asked.

“What? Oh, tired.” He lied. The rest of the group seemed satisfied with this and didn’t pursue the fact that he wasn’t his normal self this morning.

The warm September breeze went some way to clearing his head as they walked across the courtyard and by the time they reached the maths block he was feeling in much better spirits, having decided to ignore this boy. It was very unlikely he’d get to know him well enough for it to become a nuisance.

He groaned inwardly as they reached the door of his classroom, ‘Skandar’ was already sitting inside. For a moment he was tempted to dive for his planner to check he was in the right place but realised there was no need. This was the new boy, he reminded himself, and the poor thing had obviously walked into the wrong room by mistake. He strode confidently across the threshold to tell him quietly that the year 10 classes were down the hall and to the right when he was spotted by the teacher.

“Ah, Moseley!” Mr Arnolds, a tall man of about fifty with a growing bald patch, barked over the rims of his reading glasses and beckoned him forward. Will moved closer obediently. Mr Arnolds turned his swivel chair sideways and said in that low voice that teachers seem to think discrete “I’ve been asked to make sure Mr Keynes has as smooth a transaction from his old school to our one as far as possible by the headmaster. You’re a sensible type of chap, I thought you might like to sit next to him.” Some of the worry Will felt at this kind of arrangement seemed to show on his face as his teacher answered and unasked question. “He did his GCSE last year Moseley. Very bright chap, I wouldn’t worry about him dragging you down.” He said with a knowing smile.

Will didn’t trust himself to speak so he merely nodded and moved over to the table Keynes sat at. From the other side of the room his friends sent him a questioning look and held out a chair for him. He shook his head apologetically and glanced meaningfully between their teacher and the empty seat next to Keynes which he slumped down into and looked across in time to see Tom’s eye-roll of despair, Peter’s smile of sympathy, Ben’s overdramatic expression of horror, Jimmy’s barely concealed mirth and, most damagingly to Will’s good mood, Edward drawing a heart in mid air and mouthing ‘awwww’ at him.

He blushed slightly at the last one and glared at his textbook, vowing silently in his mind that Edward would die a very painful death that breaktime. “That was a very diverse set of reactions to the news you had to sit with me.” Came a quiet voice to his left. He turned to see Keynes looking him with a raised eyebrow and his arms folded across his chest.

Will wasn’t quite sure what to say to that and so gave himself a moment to inspect the boy across from him. He was abominably young to be in this class. His skin, though freckled was unbelievably pale and clear in comparison to most boys his age and looked as soft as his six year old little sister’s. He’d removed his blazer and Will could see that his body shape was still very much that of a boy. Still, he thought, at least he hasn’t gone for the ‘sexily tousled’ look most of the year 10s seem to. They never realised that you need to be older to get away with that, it has to be subtle. They only ever end up looking like they’ve been pulled through a hedge backwards. He became aware that a silence had developed between them and he still hadn’t thought of anything to say. He held out his hand with a smile. “William Moseley.”

The boy shook it. “Skandar Keynes.”

Skandar Keynes turned out to be just as bright as Mr Arnolds had promised and a very good person to be sitting next to. They didn’t talk much, in fact after the exchange of names (which traditionally signified that they were now on first name terms) all conversation had been work related, but they managed to get through maths problems at a terrific rate and as he marched solemnly to physics at the other end of the school Will had to admit that, when he was in class at least, the boy seemed very determined and concentrated.

His smugness at having finished the homework before the end of the lesson and being able to deny Jimmy and Ed the answers for their complete lack of sympathy earlier in the day evaporated through physics as, while he was now able to sit with his friends (minus Tom and Ben who did French instead of physics and plus Jasper (Jazz) who for some inexplicable reason could do physics but not maths) he had to listen to Head Bitch who sat behind them going on and on about how well endowed his new girlfriend was in the chest department and how she screamed like a whore in his bed. Somehow, he didn’t think that relationship would last long after she found out what he’d been saying. And if Jasper’s reputation for being radio Jazz was anything to go by, she’d find out soon enough.

*****************

It was mid-November and three weeks into rehearsals for twelfth night when Will suddenly realised that the boy he’d had pinned down as an actor hadn’t auditioned. He briefly entertained the thought that maybe Skandar thought the school drama society beneath him, but then he hadn’t ever seemed like that in class. It was also true however, that Will had never actually seen Skandar outside of that that one room apart from occasionally bumping into each other in the corridors where they did little more than to nod at each other in acknowledgment or when he sometimes caught a glimpse of him across the hall in assembly. As far as he could tell, Mr Keynes had integrated himself so well into the life of the boys around him that many of them seemed convinced that he had always been there and that they had been friends with him for at least a decade. Just as briefly he wondered if he had read the boy wrongly and that he was actually a sports fanatic. But then he remembered that he hadn’t seen his name on any sign up sheets for sporting extra curricular activities either.

For reasons he couldn’t fully understand this tiny, insignificant detail about a boy that he saw for no more than 6 hours a week bugged him. He’d had this problem before and no sooner had he come to this realisation himself than his friends had spotted the symptoms and told him to just to spit out whatever was bothering him before he became completely unbearable to be around. With that vote of confidence still ringing in his ears, he made his way to maths.

“So,” he said in his best attempt at a casual tone “I didn’t see you at the auditions for twelfth night.”

The look Skandar gave him said he was quite sure that Will had taken leave of his senses. "And why would I be there?” He asked slowly.

Will could feel his ears turning red and fought to remain calm. He would not be embarrassed by someone who’d probably still be ID’d going into a 12A. He feigned nonchalance with a shrug. “I thought you were an actor that’s all.”

Skandar nodded in understanding and flopped into a chair at their desk. “Not really,” he admitted, wiggling his fingers “I’m more of a musician.”

Will found himself staring at the boy’s hands. There was something almost enchanting about the way he moved them. They were definitely musicians hands, they had long fingers that moved elegantly even when performing a task as mundane as twiddling. He scowled at himself inwardly for using the word twiddling and, because he was afraid of another awkward silence, asked “What instruments do you play?”

“Guitar,” Skandar answered “also cornet, cello and… erm…” he pulled a face “flute.” He glanced nervously across at Will as though expecting him to laugh. Will though, was quite impressed.

“You must be in most of the clubs then.” He thought aloud.

“Nearly all of them.” Skandar admitted. “I’ve evaded the recorder group thus far, but they’re very persistent.”

Will laughed but was prevented from continuing their conversation by the arrival of Mr Arnolds who came crashing into the room with a cup of coffee brandished before him and the words “BINOMIAL DISTRIBUTION!” bellowing forth from his lungs and by the time Will had a chance to start another conversation with the boy, he had slipped back into student mode.

******************

Life plodded on throughout winter and into spring and William had almost forgotten about the brief fixation he had had in the autumn with Skandar’s hands and why he hadn’t auditioned for Twelfth Night. He found that whole incident unnerving; usually when he developed small fixations on things it meant that he was on his way to a full blown crush within a week or two and if he wasn’t very careful he might fall head over heels in love. Most recently, he’d gone to see Twilight with a couple of friends from the girls’ school over the road and found he rather liked the coat Robert Pattinson wore. Within the week he’d read all four books and had a poster of Edward Cullen hanging on the back of his bedroom door. Thankfully, for once in his existence his libido listened to reason and worked out that Skandar was a child. He had suffered no more ill effects, even if he did wish they could occasionally talk about something other than how Skandar had managed to get the right answer when Will was completely lost.

Their comfortable companionship came to a screeching halt on one particularly fine day in late April. Will arrived late to maths with the rest of the gang after they’d all fallen asleep in the sunshine and failed to notice before he sat down that Skandar, whom he had never seen anything but early, wasn’t there. He thought for a moment that maybe the boy was ill; but then, he couldn’t remember that ever happening either. Just then Skandar arrived, all but running through the door and looking dishevelled (another first). Will’s first thought was maybe the boy had gone swimming and hadn’t had time to change properly but when he saw the bloodshot eyes his thoughts turned to a fight. The way he said “Hayfever” when asked what was wrong, confirmed it. But however he tried, Will couldn’t get another word out of him for the rest of the hour.

By the next morning, Will had come to the conclusion that this fight was probably just a one-off with one of his friends and therefore none of his business; such things were inevitable when locked in proximity to 600 raging balls of hormones. He had still spent half the night awake worrying about the boy for reasons he couldn’t quite fathom. He felt protective of the boy, as though he knew him much better than he really did. For all the hours they had spent together, he still didn’t know if the boy preferred the Beatles or the Rolling Stones.

He spent the bus ride into school composing his apology speech for sticking his nose where it didn’t belong but it flew out the window when he saw Skandar sitting at their table. Minus the bloodshot eyes this time, but with the addition of a badly split lip and a hollow look in his eyes. It scared Will to see him like that, all quiet and self-conscious. Whoever had done this had managed to suck out all the energy and life Skandar usually radiated onto anyone standing in a six foot radius. He felt anger bubbling inside his stomach. “What the Fuck happened to you?” He demanded. Skandar looked at him pleadingly to shut up and let it go. William was not in the mood to do any such thing but was silenced before he could talk by a drawl of ‘Language Moseley’ from Mr Arnolds and a lesson long practice paper for the exams in a month’s time.

Infuriated that he hadn’t managed to get an answer on the spot, Will cornered him in the hallway as they walked between lessons. People were milling around them with the usual sense of urgency so he was confident that no one would be listening. He forced his voice to be as calm as he could manage. “So when are you going to tell me what really happened?” He asked quietly.

Skandar didn’t even turn to face him. “I walked into a door.” He said confidently.

Will pretended to believe him. “Ooh, nasty.” He hissed. “Did you get it on the handle?”

The dark haired boy nodded enthusiastically by his side. “Yeah,” he lied “walked straight into it, never saw it coming. The guys thought it was hilarious.”

Will stopped and span the boy so his back hit the wall, struggling to control his temper. Around them the young men kept moving, completely uninterested in the handsome blonde that was seething over a shocked younger boy. He sighed. “I really wish you’d auditioned for the play.” He said. Skandar’s look changed from shock to frustration and he moved to leave but Will pinned his shoulders with an arm. “You honestly expect me to believe that you walked into a door with a handle at lip height?” He demanded.

Skandar looked away, his expression now one of shame and Will could see his eyes welling up with bitter tears. All the anger inside of him broke and he now fought the urge to pull this boy closer to him and never let go. Instead he settled for grabbing him by the elbow and dragging him along the, now deserted, corridors.

“Where are we going?” Skandar asked, having to trot to keep up because of their height difference.

William didn’t trust himself to look at him. “Somewhere we can talk.” He answered.

Skandar spluttered to his left. “But I’ve got a lesson.” He insisted. “I can’t skive.”

“You’re not skiving,” Will explained as he directed them up a set of stairs and down yet another empty hall “you have a dentist appointment. Jimmy will write you a note in break.” Skandar didn’t look convinced. Will sighed. “If you feel that bad about lying I can get it to say you had to go see your therapist.” He decided to ignore the way his heart leapt at the weak laugh this bought him and concentrated instead on getting into the most little used corner of the library undetected. They eventually made it after nearly being seen by a librarian and two biology teachers. Will could explain himself by claiming to have a free period but there was no way that anyone would buy that Skandar was in the sixth form. His skin was just too smooth and soft looking. Will mentally berated himself and tried to stay focussed on the job at hand. He settled himself down on a beanbag and indicated that Skandar should do the same. The boy sat but did so very stiffly, as though he were facing a police interrogation.

Will tried for an air of nonchalance to calm him down. “So,” he started “what really happened?”

Skandar looked away again. “I don’t want to talk about it.” He mumbled.

Will folded his arms across his chest. “Tough.” He said.

Skandar bit his lip for a moment in a way that Will found far too adorable for his own good before slumping down in defeat and starting to talk. “Toby Mitchell.” He muttered savagely.

“MITCHELL?” Will almost shrieked, his eyebrows rising up to meet his hairline. Images of a six foot something rugby player with biceps the size of Belgium and a nasty temper flashed through his mind. Good God he thought if the boy’s been in a fight with Mitchell and all he got was a bleeding lip he’ll be the stuff of legend.

Skandar looked surprised. “You know him?” He asked.

Will dismissed it with a wave of his hand. “He’s in my year.” He admitted. “Spends his time clinging onto Head Bitch for dear life.” Skandar looked lost. “It’s, er, my pet name for our darling head boy.” He elaborated.

The dark haired youth snorted derisively. “Yeah well he started talking to me in the hall yesterday on my way to maths, how I was getting on here and all that, and then he tried to kiss me and I ran for it and all he managed was to pull my shirt a bit and yell ‘slut’ after me down the corridor.” He looked up expectantly at Will.

Will was trying very hard not to let all the anger that had suddenly come rushing back convince him that borrowing a knife from the kitchens and taking it to Mitchell’s gentiles was a very attractive idea. With effort, he put a smile on his face. “I’ll remember what hay fever means for the future then.” He said.

Skandar managed another weak laugh and dabbed at the corner of his eyes with his blazer. “So this morning he cornered me in the loo before school and actually kissed me this time and then I got free and I hit him and then he hit me back and walked out.”

By the time he finished, his voice was barely a whisper and Will put aside all the consequences and pulled the shaking boy into his arms. He didn’t realise before it was too late that he had kissed the boy’s hair but sent a prayer up to any deity that might be listening that Skandar wouldn’t notice or would brush it off as an accident. Eventually the boy pulled away from him and wiped his eyes with his sleeve again. “Thanks.” He muttered and looked up at Will with bloodshot eyes and clumped together eyelashes. “And you know the worst bit?”

Will waited for him to continue but they just continued to stare at each other. He cleared his throat. “What was the worst bit?” He asked.

“Now it’s going to get round the whole school that I’m gay and I kissed Mitchell.”

Will longed to ask you’re GAY? but thought better of it, it was unlikely to help given the circumstances. “You’re in?” He asked instead in what he hoped was a casual tone.

Skandar let out a mirthless laugh and put his head in his hands. “God no.” He said. “It’s just, you know, MITCHELL?”

Will laughed and put his arm around the boy, stroking his back. “It’ll be ok.” He promised. “I’ll fix it.”

Skandar’s head flew up so quickly his hair bounced almost violently. Will would have smiled at this were it not for the expression on the other boy’s face. “Oh no,” he said, pointing an accusing finger at him “don’t you dare.”

The blonde put up his hands defensively and tried his best to look innocent. “What?”

“I know what ‘fixing’ means in boys schools” Skandar muttered darkly “and I don’t want you or anyone else getting into a fight on my behalf. That’s all I need right now. For it to get round school that I need to have someone else fight my battles for me.”

Will grabbed hold of his shoulders and moved him so they were facing. “Listen to me Keynes.” He said. “I like my life. I’ve got family, I’ve got friends, I could do the exams in a coma and still come out with an A. I have no reason to commit suicide. I’m not going to get into a fight with Mitchell.” He was glad to see Skandar snort at this, being miserable really didn’t suit him. “I said I’ll fix it and I’ll fix it.” Somewhere in the distance the bell rang and the sound of hundreds of feet and voices racing down the halls filled the air. Will got to his feet heavily and offered the boy his hand.

Skandar took it and pulled himself up. “Thanks.” He said.

Will grinned a grin that was usually reserved for getting himself drinks on the house and girls’ phone numbers for the guys. It suddenly struck him that Skandar was really quite handsome. He’d grown a lot since the start of the year, not just upwards (although it was scary for Will that there was no more than a couple of inches between them now) but his face looked older, his features more defined. He opened his mouth to say something (probably ‘you’re welcome’) but was stopped by a tall boy with sandy brown hair who came racing round the corner. “THERE you are!” He exclaimed loudly. “Guys, I’ve found him.” Over his head Will could see a librarian pursing her lips at noise in her sanctum. The sandy haired boy stared rather pointedly at his hand and he realised that neither he nor Skandar had actually let go. He removed his hand and stuck it in his pocket, smiling cheerfully at Skandar’s friend who was now regarding him as one might a specimen under the microscope. And then they were surrounded by boys Skandar’s age who grabbed his bag and put an arm around him and steered him out of the library, giving Will barely enough time to say that he’d drop the letter off at the guidance office for him.

As he began the walk back to his friends’ usual meeting place in the courtyard, he wondered at just how quickly Skandar Keynes had managed to worm his way in as a significant part of his life. While Jimmy was forging a letter from Skandar’s mother, Will took the opportunity to have a casual word with Jazz. “You’ll never guess what,” he said to Ben on his right “you know the guy I sit next to in maths? Keynes? Well Mitchell tried to come onto him.”

It took all Will had not to laugh as Jazz took the bait, completely forgetting about the kitkat in his hand and looking at him intently. “Really?” He asked. “What happened?”

He feigned disinterest. “Cornered him in the loos apparently, tried to kiss him.”

“And?” Jazz pressed.

“And what?” He drawled, leaning into a more comfortable position against the wall.

“And what did Keynes do about it?”

“Oh,” he said “punched him.”

This got everyone’s attention. “He punched Mitchell?” Jazz whispered incredulously. Everyone else in the gang looked on with interest, even Jimmy looked up from signing the note.

“Yep.” Will said happily.

“I thought Keynes was gay.” Tom said, his voice barely louder than Jazz’s.

“Oh he is,” Will confirmed “and out. But that doesn’t mean he’ll put up with being set upon by the likes of Mitchell.”

“Wow.” Was all Edward said. He seemed to speak for the group.

Not long after this Jazz excused himself to go to the loo and Will knew his work was done. By lunchtime the whole school would know his version of events. Sometimes the most damaging thing in the world is the truth. He whistled on his way to the guidance office with the note, feeling quite pleased with himself. As he turned the last corner he came face to face with Mitchell who was almost purple with fury and suddenly found himself being slammed against a wall with all the air knocked out of him.

“Is this of your doing Moseley?” He demanded through gritted teeth. The man sneered. “I bet it is. I bet this is your idea of a game. Or maybe it’s that you like the boy. Yes, that’s it isn’t it? You’re just jealous that I got to him before you did and now you’re spreading this around to get back at me. Well let me tell you something Moseley. Before this week is out I swear to you I will have him spread for me and moaning like a whore.”

Will felt the anger well up inside him again and one glance at Mitchell’s face was all the convincing he needed to break the most sacred rule of hand-to-hand combat between males. He grabbed the man’s shoulders with his hands and drove his knee up into his groin as forcefully as he could. Mitchell’s eyes shot open and he fell to the ground, apparently unable to move. Will flipped him over onto his back and glared at him. “You will never go near Keynes again.” He hissed. “You will never touch him, you will never speak to him, and you won’t send your heavies to speak on your behalf. Do you understand?” For the briefest moment he saw hatred flash in the other’s eyes but it was soon replaced by pain again. “Good.” He said, standing. “I’ll take your silence as acceptance.” And walked off.

He posted the note under the door of the guidance office as everyone did when they came in late from an appointment and was on his way back when he passed Head Bitch in the corridor. He put an arm out to stop him. “Ah, Stevens. Mitchell’s lying on the floor by the exams office, I think he’s hurt himself.” As HB and gang sprinted off to investigate, Will headed for chemistry and resumed his whistling.

****************

It was at Will’s end of year celebratory party that the final nail was put in the coffin of considering Skandar ‘just a friend’. They had just finished the ceremonial burning of coursework and Will was on his way to get himself and Peter another drink when he saw something he’d been fairly convinced he’d never have to deal with again.

For some reason unknown to human kind, Mitchell was at his party and for some reason that defied all logic; he had Skandar pinned up against a tree with one hand on his chest to prevent escape. Will felt his blood boil and an overwhelming need to protect the dark haired boy consume him. The next thing he knew he had stormed over to where the pair were standing and yanked Mitchell forcefully off the body he had been looming over. Mitchell stumbled back and caught his foot on the power cable to the speaker system, yanking it out. Instantly the party became silent and all stared at them. Oblivious, Will fisted his hands in the other’s shirt and pulled him down to face height. “I told you,” he said calmly “months ago, that Keynes is off limits. You’ve got no right to go round forcing yourself on anyone pretty and smaller than you.”

The taller man pushed away from him. “Fuck off Moseley, it was just a bit of fun.” He said defensively. “And if I am showing my interest, then it’s his fault for flaunting it. He’s just begging for someone to fuck him.”

He got no further as Will’s fist connected with his nose. He fell to the ground and the blonde loomed over him, his voice still laced with deadly calm. “You were not invited to this party. You have no reason for being at my house. You can leave now, or I can have the police come and take you away for trespassing.”

Mitchell seemed to weigh his options for a minute before getting to his feet and walking out of the garden with the remains of his dignity and a “Whatever Moseley” thrown over his shoulder.

Will felt a hand on his elbow and jerked momentarily before realising it was Skandar and relaxing. He let himself be guided back into the house to the kitchen to the sound of Ben ordering someone to plug the stereo back in and the party starting up again. Skandar sat him down on a chair and started rummaging through his freezer for an icepack. “You know, I could do that myself.” He said as the dark haired boy passed him a bag of frozen peas wrapped in a tea towel.

“Yes,” he admitted “but you’re angry and you’re fractious and you’d probably get half the contents of the freezer on the floor in the process.”

Will couldn’t think of anything to say to that so he contented himself with staring at the boy in front of him and nursing his fist, which was starting to throb. His initial reaction was one of shock at just how much the uniform seemed to hide. He honestly hadn’t noticed the way Skandar had slowly filled out over the course of the year. Where he had once been skinny, he now looked athletic. The pale skin which had once made him look quite ill now looked elegant and aristocratic and his hair now shone and framed his face in a way Will would have had to spend hours adjusting but which he was quite sure was just the way it went when Skandar rolled out of bed and pulled a comb through it.

Skandar broke the silence. “Well, it’s getting late.” He sighed. “Do you think I could borrow your mobile to get my parents to give me a lift home?”

Will glanced at the clock. “Skandar,” he said “it’s nine thirty.”

Skandar sighed again, more heavily this time. “Yeah but we’ve got school tomorrow and I’ve got a plane to catch tomorrow evening.”

Will looked up at him as he fished his mobile out of his jeans with his good hand. “You’re going somewhere?”

“Yeah, we’re going to spend the summer with my cousins in New Zealand.”

“Oh, cool.” Will said, offering his phone. “When are you getting back?”

Skandar took it and started dialling. “Day before term starts. Yeah hi mum, it’s me. Look can you come and pick me up from this party? No no I’m fine mum, seriously. I’m just a bit tired and there isn’t really anyone here I know.” Will felt his heart sink and berated himself mentally for not inviting any of Skandar’s friends. “Ok, thanks, bye.” He handed Will’s phone back, flicking his hair out of his eyes and leaning against the counter. “So, yeah. She should be here in a couple of minutes.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t invite your friends.” Will blurted out.

Skandar shook his head. “Don’t be. I’m not planning to invite many of yours to my 16^th.” Will snorted then jumped as the doorbell rang. Skandar pushed away from the counter. “That’ll be her.” He said.

Will nodded. “Have a good time on your trip.” He said, not trusting himself with anything else. He moved forward to shake hands with Skandar but the boy wrapped his arms around him instead in a gesture that Will gladly returned. The hug lasted longer than it should have between friends and they were only broken apart by the doorbell ringing a second time. Skandar left and Will trudged upstairs, suddenly very tired and confident that the boys were perfectly capable of throwing the party without him. He lay awake in bed where sleep eluded him, frantically ignoring the boner her really hoped Skandar hadn’t felt and trying to work out what to do with the realisation that he was completely in love with the young man.

By next morning, the entire world seemed to know about his ‘encounter’ with Mitchell and thought him a hero for it. It was very flattering for his ego to hear the awed whispers as he passed people in the hallway but it was what he heard on the bus on the way home that really made his heart soar.

He was sat behind two boys (tweedle dum and tweedle dee as far as Will could tell) deep in conversation. He’d tuned out for the most part, just looking forward to the official start of his summer holidays but he caught a name he recognised and started listening in.

“…and anyway so you heard what happened to Skandar at that party he went to last night didn’t you?” Dum asked.

Dee rolled his eyes. “Oh yes.” He said. “Saved from the clutches of the evil Mitchell by his dashing Prince Will.”

Will’s stomach did a funny little backflip as Dum continued. “Indeed. But really, I know that Skandar is pretty much head over heels for the man but can’t we hear about anything else once in a while?”

Dee nodded. “It has got quite ridiculous.” He agreed. “Ever since that incident in the library back in April he’s been in a constant daydream. I mean, he was bad enough before then but now it’s all Will this, Will that…”

Will would have dearly loved to hear more on this subject but Dum and Dee had apparently reached their destination and were getting off the bus. He sighed and pulled out his iPod. For the first time in his life he was actually counting the days until school started again.

End Part 1

Just a quick little update

Sun, 31 May 2009 20:46:17 GMT

Right, so, have FINALLY got round to tagging everything correctly. Scroll down a bit and it's on the left. Have fun. Also acutely aware that the dinosaurs can probably remember the last time I posted anything. Please be aware that my exams are nearly over and normal service will resume shortly.
Love and slash,
GP

Why William Moseley will never let Skandar watch Twilight again.

Sat, 25 Apr 2009 23:25:22 GMT

Title: Why William Moseley will never let Skandar watch Twilight again.
Pairing: William Moseley/Skandar Keynes
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Your guess is as good as mine.
Wordcount: 582
Summary: See above.

“Remind me again why I’m doing this.” He said as he flopped on Will’s couch.

Will put the DVD in his xbox and moved back to sit on the sofa with Skan. “Because you broke my camera.” He said.

“I bought you a new one.” He protested.

“Yes,” Will said, pulling the young man towards him “but you’re still in the dog house.”

Skandar wrapped his arms around Will’s waist and got comfy on his chest. “And so you devised this cruel and unusual punishment.” He grumbled as a deer ran across the screen. “Would you at least explain to me what I’m watching?”

Will sighed. “Ok, there’s this family of vampires called the Cullen’s who don’t eat people –”

Skandar put his face in his hands. “Oh God.” He said. “Not another vampire film? I thought you promised we didn’t have to watch any more of them.”

Will tightened his grasp on Skandar’s shoulder to stop him from getting up or reaching for his iPod. “This one’s different.” He promised. “Just watch it.”

Skandar sulked. “Fine.”

*****

“And so the lion fell in love with the lamb.”

“What a stupid lamb.”

“What a sick masochistic lion.”

Skandar burst out laughing. “Oh dear lord this guy’s such an emo Will. What on earth do you see in him?” Will batted him round the head and he quietened down again.

*****

“Why does Rosalie hate Bella?”

“It’s complicated.” Will said, his eyes never leaving the screen.

“Will how am I supposed to understand this if you won’t explain it to me?” Skandar asked as Bella started commenting on the music in Edward’s bedroom.

Will sighed. “Ok, it really is complicated.” He said. “All you need to know for now is that there’s a lot of bruised ego involved.”

Skandar looked up at him now even more confused than he had been a minute ago.

Will sighed again. “Basically, Edward is the only guy ever that Rosalie hasn’t been able to make fancy her. Suddenly Bella flounces in and he’s head over heels. Personally I think she had him pretty much written off as gay.”

Skandar nodded. “Ok.”

*****

“Eewwwwwwwwwwwwwww, they’re kissing.” Skandar covered his face with his hands then peeked through his fingers. “Are they gonna have sex Will? Are they? Are they?” Edward Cullen flew backwards across the room. “Hang on, he’s a teenage boy that doesn’t want to have sex? What’s going on Will?”

Will’s eyes stared transfixed at the screen. “Oh he wants to all right; he’s just scared he’s going to kill her.”

“How?” Skandar asked.

“Well, either he’ll vamp out on her in the heat of the moment and drink her or he’ll accidently snap her neck.”

Skandar looked at him incredulously. “And you got this from where?”

“It goes into it in more detail in the book.”

“The book? Will, you read the book?”

Will blushed. “Well, books technically.”

Skandar moved his head onto Will’s lap and lay on his back, folding his arms. “I give up. Honestly Moseley, there’s just no hope for you.”

*****

The credits started to roll. Skandar sat up to face Will on the sofa. “So what happens next? Does Victoria gather an army to destroy Bella?”

Will got up and stretched. “Yep, but not for another two books. What do you think of Edward Cullen then?”

Skandar stood up too. “You really want to know?”

“Yeah.”

“Honestly?”

“Honestly.”

“I think he’s a sulky twat that needs a haircut.”

Will looked mortified.

FIN

Please Comment :D

Dancing - for amaya425's birthday

Sat, 25 Apr 2009 07:55:35 GMT

Title: Dancing
Pairing: Peter/Edmund
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Fluff
Wordcount: 1512
Summary: Birthday present for amaya425

High King Peter sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He looked down at the plans in front of him again, willing them to reassemble themselves into some sort of sense. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “All right,” he said to the assembled courtiers “we move the army west into the Shuddering Woods and find these rebels. How do we know Narnia won’t be attacked from the north in the mean time?”

The Centaur nearest to him spoke. “The threat from the north has receded sire, they have retreated further into the wild lands.”

Peter nodded. “But do they intend to stay there?”

“As far as we know sire.”

“And how far do we know?” He pressed. “I will not leave my country undefended general.”

The centaur bowed low to him. “We are certain sir.”

“Very well.” He said. “Move a thousand to the woods; that should be enough. Call for reinforcements if you need them. If possible I would like them chased into the wild lands like the rest general. There has been quite enough bloodshed in Narnia for one year I think.” The centaur bowed again and he turned his attention to the rest of the assembly. At the back of the room a door opened and King Edmund slipped in looking agitated. Peter sent him a questioning look before addressing the room. “I think that concludes business for today. We will meet again tomorrow to discuss the agriculture plans for next year.”

He rose and the room stood and bowed low to him before moving to leave, gathering up papers and leaving through the grand oak doors, pausing to bow low to King Edmund on their way out. The dark haired young man walked quickly passed them to where the High King sat on his throne. He threw an agitated glance around the room where many courtiers and ministers were still discussing their issues. “You should probably be aware that we’re eating rice pudding tonight.” His tone was conversational but the smile on his face was forced.

Peter stiffened in his seat, he knew that code. “You are in great danger, RUN” was what his brother actually meant. He leaped from his throne and walked as briskly as he could without drawing attention to the nearest door, ignoring Ed’s warning shout of “Peter!” He looked back as he made it into the corridor to see his lover still standing by their four thrones with a look of horror on his face. So consumed was he with trying to work out why Edmund wasn’t running for his life too that he didn’t notice Susan until he ran straight into her with an “ooph.”

She smiled brightly at him. “Peter,” she said warmly, taking his arm “I was just looking for you. Come up to my room.” He glanced back into the throne room where he just saw Edmund mouth ‘I’m sorry’ before he was whisked away.

******************************

“No.” He said firmly, crossing his arms. “Absolutely not. No way.”

“Peter it’s a social grace.” Susan insisted. “You have to learn.”

“No I don’t.” He said stubbornly. “I am High King. I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to.”

Susan sighed exasperatedly. From an armchair in the corner, Lucy giggled. Peter glared at her. Susan continued. “Yes Peter, you’re High King. You’re powerful and almighty. But you also put me in charge of this feast and I’ve decided there will be dancing. And as our powerful and almighty High King you have to lead it, because if you don’t dance no one will.”

He turned to his brother who was sitting on the windowsill with his nose in a book. “Edmund? A little help?” He tried.

Edmund glanced up at him. “Don’t look at me,” he said “I tried to help you. It’s not my fault you ignored me and ran straight into her. Besides, she’s right. I learned years ago. It’s time you did to.”

Susan smiled smugly at him. He glared at them both. Edmund smirked and went back to his book. “But the waltz?” He protested. “Couldn’t you pick something that I can count to four in? At least that’s a bit like marching.”

“Oh all in good time.” Susan promised. “This is the only one that’s compulsory for tonight.”

He looked around at his siblings one more time for support but found none. His shoulders slumped resignedly. “Alright.” He said.

“It’s your own fault for leaving it to the last minute.” Susan chided him. “Now, put your right hand just beneath my shoulder… That’s my waist Peter…”

******************************

He smiled at the ambassadors as they passed him into the ballroom, his stomach in knots. All through dinner he’d been fighting the urge to run. Just to sprint for the stables and grab a horse and not come back for a week. He had a sneaking suspicion that Edmund had kept a hand on his thigh all evening to stop him doing just that.

Finally all the guests had entered and the doors closed behind them. The royals took their places for their grand entrance and Peter started to feel more comfortable. He was used to this part. His hand automatically reached out for Edmund’s and raised it to shoulder height. The doors opened and the queens entered before shutting behind them again. He checked his reflection in the mirror and readjusted his crown. Blue eyes met brown ones in the glass and other King gave his fingers a reassuring squeeze. He offered his lover a weak smile before drawing himself up to his full height as the heavy doors in front of them opened.

Panic set in again as he walked into the ballroom, reminding himself to keep ahead of Edmund who he was supposed to be leading. It was at times like this he wished Aslan had just made him King instead of High King so it wouldn’t matter who lead. Susan would probably make him do it anyway he mused, either because he was older or taller. Somehow she’d find a way. Edmund seemed to be finding his discomfort amusing; he was fighting a smile as they took their places on the middle of the dance floor. Peter made a mental note to make him pay for that later.

The band started playing and he let a full two bars go without moving, just getting a feel for the tempo. 3, 2, 1, step, side, together. Step, side, together, step, turn, together. It really wasn’t that bad, he mused as they span slowly around on the floor. As long as he could block out the rest of the room and pretend it was just them he was fine. He started leading Edmund through more and more complicated steps, even making a few up as he went along, all the time insisting to himself that none of this was real. That the music was inside his head and it was just a daydream. Strangely though, he could feel his heart starting to soar when they moved together to the beat. Something about this perfect harmony between them and the music was making him feel more inclined to stop and kiss his lover to within an inch of his life than to run away screaming. He blocked those thoughts and reminded himself he was only doing this because he had to. He hated dancing.

Eventually, he felt the song slow down and come to a stop. There was a moment’s dreadful silence in which he became very aware of all the people around him again, staring, before the room exploded into applause. He bowed slightly on shakey legs to the assembled public before making a speedy exit to the balcony as the band struck up something faster and the floor suddenly became crowed with swirling couples.

He braced himself on the stone balcony sucking in great lungfuls of cold air and trying to calm himself, he had a terrible urge to cry. A hand touched his shoulder and he span quickly to come face to face with Edmund who was looking at him sympathetically. His lover opened his arms and he collapsed into them, clutching tightly to his robes and burying his face in his neck. Ed lifted his face up and brought their lips together gently. They kissed slowly for a while before Peter broke away to lean on the stone behind him.

“So what went wrong?” The dark haired king asked him.

“I forgot about the people.” He admitted. “That’s bad isn’t it?” He asked. “To forget about one’s public.”

“Not necessarily.” Edmund said with a small smile. “It just means you were enjoying yourself.”

Peter groaned. “Whatever you do don’t tell Susan.” He warned.

Edmund’s grin widened. “I promise. Now,” he said happily “if you listen closely you’ll hear the band playing something you can count to four in. Come on,” he said, tugging at Peter’s hand “it’s probably a bit like marching.”

Peter rolled his eyes theatrically and let himself be dragged inside, a broad smile on his face.

THE END

BOYS NIGHT IN - UNCUT

Wed, 25 Mar 2009 00:00:25 GMT

Title: Boys night in – The Uncut Version.
Pairing: Ben/Will/Skandar
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Smut (porn for intellectuals)
Wordcount: 6519
Summary: Well I hope you’re all happy. I wrote you a nice long threesome fic and every comment I get is a rephrasing of “It’s very very nice but could we please have some sex in it?” Well, whatever the slashers want the slashers get but be warned, this will not take you five minutes to read and there’s 4 full pages of filth (as it’s written in my word processor). Comment to make it up to me! :D

Ben took another swig of beer and looked at Will challengingly over the top of his bottle. “Truth.”

The other man settled back against a pillow, stroking his own bottle thoughtfully. “Most embarrassing school moment?”

Ben bit his lip; trust Moseley to come up with something he was uncomfortable with. A moment ago they’d been discussing sex and he was fine with that, he really was, but he should have known the fates wouldn’t let him go a single night of his life without humiliating himself in some way. He sighed and stared at the hotel room’s carpet. “Year nine.” He said slowly, glancing up to check Will was looking at him. He was. “PE changing rooms.” A smile played over Will’s lips, he seemed to know where this was going. “Boner.”

As expected, Will fell on his side giggling. Ben busied himself fiddling with his bottle and waited for him to calm down. He really was very pretty, Ben mused, if one ignored his never ceasing competitiveness and the three hours he would take to get ready before they went out anywhere. He shook those thoughts from his head, it was dangerous to fancy a co-star. After a minute the laughter subsided to a low chuckle and the blonde sat up again. “Classic,” he muttered, wiping his eyes “rugby?”

Ben shook his head and took another sip, preparing himself for more laughter. “Swimming.”

Will winced and hissed in sympathy instead. “Harsh.” He muttered. “What happened then?”

Ben smiled as he felt his Dutch courage settle in. “I was mocked.”

Will rolled his eyes. “Well obviously.”

“No it was worse than you think.” Ben insisted. “Cos you see, it was the very beginning of year nine and I hadn’t really grown yet.”

Will put his bottle down on the floor beside the bed. “Ah.”

“Yeah, it’s one thing to get hard in the changing rooms, quite another for there to be nothing worth looking at.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, you’re turn. Truth or dare?”

Will considered this a moment. “Truth.”

Ben grinned to himself and waited ‘til Will had a mouth full of beer before asking lightly. “Have you ever worn a thong?” The blonde chocked and spluttered and Ben grinned smugly as he tucked his legs under him to sit cross legged on the bed.

Will recovered quickly. “Yes.” He said. Ben’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “For a dare.” He added quickly.

There was a knock at the door and Ben stood up to answer it, wondering who on earth would call on them at this time of night. Skandar stood in the corridor looking somewhere between annoyed and worried. He flushed red as Ben raised an eyebrow in amusement at his Star Wars pyjamas and shifted his weight onto the other foot.

“Um, hi. Sorry it’s late; I was just wondering if Will was here?”

The blonde in question slid off the bed and moved to stand behind him in the doorframe. “Hey Skandy, what’s up?”

Ben inwardly groaned as Skandar’s eyes flicked over Will’s half-unbuttoned shirt and his own messed up hair. Given the hours they’d been sitting together in his room swapping stories, it was only natural they’d look a bit dishevelled by now but to an outsider… well, he could nearly see the cogs in Skandar’s brain whizzing towards the wrong conclusion. A second later the boy took half a step back and turned to walk down the hall. “Sorry,” he mumbled “I’ll let you get back – to whatever it was you were doing.”

Before Ben’s brain had registered that he should really stop the boy before he left, Will’s arm had shot out and grabbed him by the elbow. “It’s not what you think;” Will assured him “we’re just having a beer, playing truth or dare.”

Skandar looked defiantly at them. “I never said it was.”

Ben felt the need to stop an awkward moment before it happened. “D’you wanna come in Skandar?” He asked, jerking his head inside the room. “You know, hang out?”

Skandar nodded mutely and they moved apart to let him into the room. Ben followed the others back inside and closed the door quietly behind him. Will crawled back onto the bed, slumping easily against the pillows and picking up his beer from the floor. Skandar perched nervously near the foot and looked around uneasily, like he was expecting to be thrown out. Ben shook his head amusedly and made his way to the fridge to take out another beer for the boy. He threw him a packet of Doritos and handed him the drink which were accepted with a smile before launching himself across the large bed and propping himself up against the wall at right angles to both boys.

Skandar took a large glug of his drink and promptly gagged (Ben and Will hid their smiles with crisps). “Thanks for letting me come in.” He muttered between slow sips. “I won’t stay long. I mean, it’s nearly midnight, I should probably be getting some sleep.”

“I’m not doing this to be polite Skan.” Ben assured him. “I said we’d hang out, we haven’t really had the chance to do that yet.”

Skandar smiled brightly at him in thanks. Will shoved the boy’s shoulder teasingly. “And since when do you go to bed before one on a Friday night anyway Skandy?” He asked. “If this were England you’d be up for at least another three hours playing Halo.”

Skandar nodded in agreement and made himself more comfortable on the bed, slouching against the footboard and shoving a handful of crisps into his mouth. They fell into an easy silence and Ben stared blankly at the three pairs of feet on the middle of his duvet from three stretched out sets of legs. He wondered why Skandar wasn’t his usual confident self tonight. Judging by the fact that he’d never seen him in the least awkward with Will on set or off it, it had to be him. That made sense, he thought, he’d been near Will for years now, shared a room with him on both films, Georgie never SHUT UP about how close they were and then there was him. He was the new element in their equations and, probably more importantly, older than him. A proper grown up, that must be what Skandar was afraid of. He felt the need to break the silence again. “So Skandar,” he tried “truth or dare?”

He fought the urge to laugh at Skandar’s ‘rabbit caught in headlights’ look. “That’s not fair, you can’t start with me – I’ve only just got here. I don’t know anything you’ve said!”

Will got off the bed and moved to the fridge for another bottle. “That’s alright, we’ve only just started really. Beer Ben?” Ben looked down at his nearly empty bottle and nodded. “Skan?” Skandar shook his head. “Right so basically, what we’ve managed to ascertain,” he grunted softly as he climbed back onto the bed again “is that Ben once got a boner in the changing rooms at school when there wasn’t even anything to look at and I once wore a thong to a party for a dare. Truth or Dare Skandar?”

Ben rolled his eyes. Leave it to Will to put things as crudely and succinctly as possible when there was potential for a game that he could win. Skandar didn’t seem in the least bit taken aback by either revelation and looked to be trying to work out which decision would be better tactically. “Truth.” He said eventually.

Will slumped back against the headboard, golden hair falling in his eyes. “Christ, I’ve got to think of something now.” He said disappointedly.

Skandar smirked at him. “I thought that’d put you out of action for a while.” He rounded on Ben. “A word of advice, if he gives you the choice, ALWAYS go for the truth. It’ll be embarrassing, but nothing at all compared with the dares he comes up with.”

Ben was intrigued. “Like what?” He asked, his eyes flicking to the pensive blonde on his right.

Skandar shook his head. He was still grinning and Ben found himself wondering if the boy was normally like this away from the grown ups or whether he was heading in the direction of too much beer too quickly. He was quite young after all. His train of thought was interrupted. “I’m afraid” Skandar said solemnly “that we swore a blood oath at the last premiere that nothing said or done would ever leave that room…” He trailed off ominously and Ben thought it better just to give up now, they were obviously a lot better at this game than he was.

A thought popped into his head. “William?” He asked. “You got a question yet?” Will shook his head, absentmindedly scratching his chest as he stared off into space. “Mind if I take this one?” Another head shake.

“Don’t worry.” Came the voice behind him. “He tends to go silent when he’s thinking.”

Ben nodded and rounded on Skandar. “What was the dream you we’re having on the plane over here?”

Skandar’s mouth went slack and Will cracked up laughing. Ben chewed his cheek to keep a straight face as Skandar’s head fell into his hands and he groaned in embarrassment. “Do I have to?” He whined.

Ben grinned brightly at him. “Yep. Seemed to have you pretty excited.”

Skandar’s face made it out of his hands to look pleadingly at Will for support. The blonde shook his head, wiping the tears from his eyes. “Not a chance I’m afraid Skan, I want to hear this too.” He held his hand up for Ben to hi-5 which he did, grinning and feeling about six in the process.

Skandar looked at his half full beer and downed it in one, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. “I was getting a blowjob.” He mumbled, picking at the sheet. They laughed again and Skandar joined in this time.

“Who we’re you getting it from?” Will asked.

“Oh no,” Skandar pointed a finger at him “that’s another question, you’ll have to wait till it’s my turn again. Truth or dare Will?”

Will pretended to consider it for a moment. “Truth.” Ben raised an eyebrow at him. “My dares may be bad, his are worse.” He explained.

Skandar stuck his tongue out at him. He too pretended to think for a moment before an evil smile formed on his face. Ben was surprised Will hadn’t flinched, he certainly wouldn’t have liked to have been on the receiving end of that. Maybe it was the beer starting to set in again, but he couldn’t help notice that Skandar had a vaguely angelic quality to him when he was silent.

“Do you swallow or spit Will?”

And just like that, the illusion was shattered. Will’s eyes widened and nearly boggled out of his head at the question and Ben fought down a giggle. He looked at his bottle. Either his limit was a lot lower than he remembered it or Skandar Keynes was infectious. Will looked at him imploringly and he put on a tone of light indifference. “No, no Will, do answer. I think I’d like to know the answer to this one too.”

Skandar’s grin widened. “You brought it on yourself Will.” He chided. “If you’d only helped me out a minute ago, this might never have happened.”

Will pulled a face. “Swallow.” He said, still glaring at Skandar. He rounded on Ben. “Your turn. Truth or dare?”

He answered immediately. “Truth.” It was a no-brainer really. They couldn’t expect him to hear how awful their dares were and still choose them. But William still looked disappointed. “What?” He asked the man.

Will shrugged. “People usually take it as a challenge when we say our dares are bad.”

Ben threw an empty crisp packet over the end of his bed and opened a new one. “Yes well I’m neither stupid, nor driven by my ego.”

Skandar grinned. “Your evil plan’s been foiled Will.”

Will smiled and stuck his tongue out. “Shut up.” He reached down to the bottom of his shirt and pulled it over his head, balling it up and throwing it halfway across the room. Skandar looked across at him confusedly and Will stared back, his facial expressions changing minutely every second. Skandar seemed to understand quickly and followed suit with an offhand “Too hot in here.” Ben looked between them suspiciously, he had the feeling he’d missed something important. Will tipped his head back and stared at the ceiling for a minute with a satisfied smile. “Which of us is better looking Ben?”

His head jerked up. “Sorry what?” He asked.

Will was still staring at the ceiling. “Me and Skandar.” He clarified. “Who’s better looking?”

Ben stared at him for a moment, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks, hoping he was only joking and move on. He wasn’t, he wanted an answer. He sighed and looked at them both, really looked at them for the first time.

On his right there was Will. Blonde, tanned from living in LA, a bronze god if Ben was honest with himself. Even when he was sitting on a bed in a nondescript hotel with a packet of crisps in one hand and a bottle of beer in the other he looked as though the word ‘PRADA’ should be floating above his head in big gold letters. His skin looked soft, but pulled taught over firm muscles that had been built up by months of training. He probably shouldn’t be on this set, Ben thought, he’d be much better suited to playing Adonis or Prince Charming.

And then on his left was Skandar, comfortably slumped against his footboard, looking very much at ease with the situation. Ben could see him being the accidental heartthrob at school. Will’s beauty was obvious, Skandar’s subtler. His build was slimmer, more athletic, but he could still see toned muscles underneath the skin – Skandy was probably a very good runner. Will spent hours getting ready to go out, perfecting his hair so it shone gold in the sunlight, choosing his clothes to compliment his shape; Skandar would just throw on a shirt and go. He had an easy elegance about him that Ben imagined Will was more than envious of. Skandar never tried really, he wasn’t that interested. He’d been in hair and makeup when they first all came in after the break and the hair girls had nearly cried when he told them they were the last people to put conditioner on it. Skandar had yet to reach his prime and that thought alone made Ben shudder. He could quite easily see the boy in front of him turning into the dark prince of Hollywood.

He looked between them again, trying to choose. It was impossible really; there was no way to compare them. And if he was truly honest he’d rather not compare them. He’d have them both. He tried to push back the memories of dreams he’d had on that topic. You should never fancy your co-stars.

He noticed Skandar smirking at him and wondered how much time had elapsed since he’d been staring. He tried for nonchalance. “I’ve no idea.” He said with a shrug. “Too difficult. Ask me another.”

Will looked disappointed. “You can’t just get another question whenever you’re asked something you don’t want to tell.” He whined. “That ruins the game.”

“Fine.” Ben huffed, suddenly aware that his jeans were feeling tighter than they should have from looking at the two of them half naked. “Give me a dare then.”

As soon as the words left his mouth he knew he’d made a mistake. Will’s face split into a wide smile and Skandar put his head in his hand muttering “I warned you.”

“Take off your jeans.” Will ordered.

Ben’s hand froze momentarily on its way to his belt before he sighed and pulled the jeans off. He balled them up and threw them off the bed, drawing his knees up to his chest to hide his growing erection. He just prayed to God he wasn’t that obvious. He grabbed his beer and rounded on Skandar. “I thought you said his dares were awful and I’d never survive.” He joked.

Skandar shrugged. “They’ll get worse.”

Ben glanced across to see Will nod solemnly at this statement. He fought a shudder and forced himself to relax. It was just a game, nothing for him to be this stressed about. If it got too much he could always claim tiredness and throw them out. Then he’d have a wank, go to bed and wake up in the morning and laugh about it. It’d all been going so well till that last question. “Truth or dare Skandar?” He asked.

“Truth.” Skandar said. “I’ve got nothing to hide.”

Ben raised his eyebrows and took that as a challenge. He racked his brains for anything Skandar was likely to find embarrassing. He was tempted to question him further about the dream on the plane over, but that would just take them further into the depths of depravity and considering he was just getting soft enough to consider putting his knees down again, he couldn’t afford to go there. Oh well, Plan B. “What’s the name of your teddy bear Skan?”

To his right Will giggled and Ben joined in, feeling a decade younger tonight for some reason. Honestly, he’d start giggling at the word penis soon. He closed his eyes, even as he’d thought it he’d wanted to laugh. When he opened them again Skandar was returning to his normal colour though his ears were still red and Ben felt a pang of disappointment. He looked so pretty when he blushed.

“Her name’s Charlie.” Skandar stated.

“Her?” Ben questioned. Behind him Will sat up straighter, looking interested.

“Yeah,” he continued “my mum called her Charlotte but I didn’t want my friends to think I had a female teddy bear when they came round so I called her Charlie.”

Ben resisted the urge to reach out and hug him, even though what he’d said was very cute. He had a feeling it wouldn’t go down well.

“Skandar” Will said quietly “I think you should stop drinking now.”

Skandar gave him the finger and downed the rest of his bottle in response. He belched loudly, smiling brightly at the blonde’s rolled eyes. Ben noted however, that he didn’t reach for another beer.

“Truth.” Will said.

“I haven’t asked you yet!” Skandar exclaimed.

“You don’t need to.” Will said. “I’ll need to be a lot more drunk than this before I ask you for a dare again. New Year’s.” He explained. “Less said the better.”

Skandar giggled and they both looked at him in shock. “I’ve got one.” He said. “Something I’ve always wanted to know. Are you gay Will?”

Ben looked at him in shock. “You’ve never asked??”

“Nope.” Skandar said happily. “Never.”

He smiled teasingly. “And you feel the need to? Isn’t it obvious?” They ignored the indignant huff from Will.

Skandar’s grin widened impossibly. “Oh I know, I just want him to say it.”

He turned to Will who smiled slowly and put his hands up in defeat. “Ok,” he said “I admit it, I’m gay.”

Skandar leaned forward and patted Will on the knee. “Now,” he said “was that so hard?”

“What about you Ben?”

“Huh?” He hadn’t been expecting that.

Will shrugged. “Well I assumed you wouldn’t be going for a dare. Was I wrong?” Ben shook his head, dumbfounded. “Good.”

He briefly considered telling them he was straight but that would rather defeat the point of telling the truth. He took a deep breath. “I’m bi. I think.” He said. Will made hand movements indicating that he should continue. “I don’t know what more you want me to say.” He admitted. “I don’t really have a preference for who I fancy. If someone’s beautiful then they’re beautiful regardless of the gender. I mostly date girls because they’re the ones that ask me out.” They both seemed to accept this. He wondered why it had felt like a big thing telling them. “Are you a virgin Skandar?”

“WHAT?”

Even Will looked a little shocked at this. “That’s a very personal question Ben.” He said.

“And my sexual preference isn’t?” He countered.

Skandar butted in before it could turn into a full-blown argument. “Yes.” He said. “I am.”

Ben looked at him and he flushed again. “Really?”

Will came to his rescue. “He’s only been 16 a week.” He reminded him.

He turned his attention to the blonde. “Well, yeah, but there have to be thousands of girls out there more than ready to relieve him of that particular burden? You never took advantage of that opportunity?”

Skandar shook his head.

Ben was amazed. “Wow.” He said. “You never wanted to?”

Skandar shook his head again. “Screaming girls aren’t exactly my thing.”

Ben suddenly became aware that William had gone very still and quiet at the other end of the bed which for someone who could normally be described as Tigger on amphetamines was worrying.

“Will, are you ok?” Skandar asked.

“Who were you dreaming about on the plane?” He asked quietly. Skandar bit his lip. “It wasn’t a girl was it?” Skandar shook his head. “I should have known.” He said. “I should have guessed.”

Ben watched fascinated as the scene in front of him played out.

“Truth or dare Will?” Skandar asked.

Will looked at him challengingly. “Dare.”

Skandar grinned. “I dare you to kiss me.”

Will dived forward, pushing him against the footboard and smashing their mouths together. Skandar fought back, tipping them over so Will was lying on the mattress with one knee on either side of the blonde’s hips, straddling him.

Ben groaned and let his hand fall to his cock, stroking it slowly as he watched the two in front of him grind into each other. His hand was suddenly batted away and replaced with another, which worked its way into his boxers and took a firm hold of him. He looked down and blue eyes locked with his, a wide smile spreading over kissable lips and tanned cheeks. He moaned as Will did something with a flick of his wrist that sent a jolt of pleasure coursing through him. Skandar smirked and tangled his fingers in Ben’s hair, pulling him closer. This is it, he thought as their lips met, my last chance to back out, my last chance to preserve – oh screw it!

He yanked Skandar closer and thrust his tongue into his mouth. Skandar responded immediately, tightening the fingers in Ben’s hair. He had a very talented tongue, Ben mused, but then Skandar Keynes was good at everything; why should this be any different? Oh but what wouldn’t he give to feel those lips around him, that tongue dancing over his head. Below him, Will gasped at their show nand tightened his grip on Ben’s cock, eliciting another moan from him.

Skandar released his hair and moved his hands to the bottom of his t-shirt, pulling it up and over his head. Ben attached his mouth to the column of throat in front of him and shoved his hand down the boy’s pyjamas wrapping it around the hard length he found there. Skandy made an odd mewling noise and he wrapped his free arm round his back to support him.

It was difficult to tell without seeing, but judging by how much his hand was having to move with each stroke, he was well proportioned. And judging by how he was responding to a squeeze or flick of the wrist, he had wildly overestimated how experienced the boy was.

He felt a hand leave his cock and made an undignified noise in protest, earning him a low chuckle from Will. He moved his attentions to Skandar’s collarbone to look over his shoulder as the blonde got off the bed. His unasked question was answered as jeans and boxers fell to the floor and the bronze god climbed back onto the bed. He laughed and broke away from Skandar who looked at him in momentary dismay before following the line of his pointed finger with his eyes.

“What?” The young man asked disgruntledly.

“His tan lines.” Ben explained.

Will looked almost self-conscious as Skandar eyed him up, trailing his eyes over the perfectly defined six-pack to his large cock. Mine’s bigger, Ben thought smugly, although he did have to admit that Will was probably a bit thicker than him. He fought the urge to roll his eyes, there must be something very wrong with him tonight if he had two nude and semi-nude gorgeous men in his bed and the only thing he cared about was comparative cock sizes. Well, not the only thing. He couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to be sinking down onto a cock like that, to feel it stretching him. Or to be sinking into the other boy’s arse. He wondered if it would be as tight as his buttocks were from the brief glimpse he’d seen of them a moment ago. He could see himself pounding into Will, see the boy grasping wildly at the headboard for something to brace himself on. His cock jumped in his boxers (why was he still wearing those?) and he reluctantly pulled himself back to the present where Will was once again lying against the pillows, all but posing, and at his side Skandar was nearly drooling. He waved a hand in front of the boy’s face and he seemed to come back to reality with a blush.

“Erm, sorry. What was the question?”

“Will’s tan lines.” He prompted. “How small do you think the trunks would have had to be to get coverage like that?”

A slow smile spread over his face before he fell onto his back laughing. Ben grinned too; it was good to see him laugh. He barely had time to register something white and large in the corner of his vision before he was his in the face by a pillow. He was able to breathe for half a second before it hit him again.

“You arse.” Will said, aiming a third strike and thankfully smiling too. “You utter, utter cock.”

Skandar hadn’t stopped laughing yet so Ben knew he wouldn’t be able to count on him for protection. He put up his arms to cover his head and finally managed to catch the offending piece of linen and stuffing after a further two thwacks and lobbed it somewhere over his shoulder towards the footboard. Will took hold of his chin and guided their faces gently together. This kiss was softer, slower, but still burning with months of buried passion.

They broke for air after a few minutes and he turned around to see Skandar propped up on one elbow, pumping himself slowly. Ben gulped, in his own way he was just as good looking as William was. He glanced around to see where the pyjamas had gone and found he could just about see what could be a stormtrooper helmet printed on cloth hanging over the footboard. “Feeling left out Skandy?” He teased.

Skandar’s hand left his cock to wave them on. “Not at all,” he insisted “please continue.”

Ben and Will exchanged a look before sliding down the bed to lie on either side of the younger man. They let their fingers and tongues drag over him, studiously avoiding his groin, trying to map ever shudder, every wriggle, every gasp. Will raised a hand to brush hair out of the boy’s eyes. “What do you want tonight Skandar? What do you want to do?”

The brunette moaned. “I want one of you to fuck me.”

Ben put his mouth close to Skandar’s ear. “Have you ever had anything in you before Skandar?” He asked.

“Nothing.” He replied. “Not even a finger.”

Ben tensed. On the other side, Will did the same. “No.” They chorused.

Skandar’s brow furrowed and he sat up. “Why?” He demanded. “I’m sixteen, I’m old enough to give my consent and I want you.”

“Skandy,” Will said quickly “it’s nothing to do with that.”

“It’s that you’ve had nothing in you.” Ben explained, stroking his fingers down the boy’s cheek. “You’ve never done this before. We have.” He indicated himself and Will. “If the way he flirts is anything to go by that one probably has a lot,” Skandar laughed at this; William pulled a face but didn’t correct him “and neither of us want to hurt you. You can’t go straight from nothing at all to something that’s over half a foot long and relatively thick.”

Skandar considered this a moment. “I hadn’t thought of it like that.” He admitted.

Will cuffed him playfully round the head. “Of course you haven’t.” He said. “You’re sixteen.”

The young man looked between them. “Are you two going to fuck each other?” He asked.

“I hope so.” Ben told him with a feral grin. He turned to Will. “Do you have any lube?” He asked. “I didn’t bring any – I wasn’t really expecting to get laid on the set of a Disney film.”

Will laughed but nodded, sliding off the bed. “Yeah, I’ve got some in my room. I’ll go get it.”

“Will,” Ben called “I dare you to get it naked.”

The blonde grinned. “Done.” He bent and rummaged quickly in the pockets of their jeans for his card key and Ben’s before leaning over the bed and kissing them both quickly on the lips. Skandar wolf whistled when he was nearly at the door and he slapped himself on one cheek, hard it would seem – they could just see a red handprint starting to form before the door closed behind him.

Ben rounded on the room’s other remaining occupant. “Truth or dare Skandy?”

He flopped onto his back and put his hands behind his head. “Truth – I don’t fancy going out there after him.”

He laughed, inching his fingers up the boy’s bare thigh. “Tell me about the dream on the plane. Who was sucking you off.” He traced his fingers lightly over Skandar’s balls.

“Will.” Skandar moaned. “Disappointed?” He asked.

Ben sighed. “Yes.” He said honestly.

Skandar sat up, and moved his mouth close to Ben’s ear. He shuddered at the feeling of breath ghosting over his flesh. “If it makes you feel any better,” he breathed “you were fucking him.”

Even more blood rushed to his cock and he was afraid for a moment that he might pass out. Never in his life could he remember being this hard. Before he had a chance to grab the boy and throw him down onto the mattress however, Will was back holding a tube triumphantly before him. Ben kissed Skandar on the cheek. “I think we should make your dream come true.” He whispered and got up off the bed to meet the blonde in the middle of the room. He relieved him of the tube and pointed to the bed. “Will, on your knees.” He ordered.

Will looked at him in shock. “Who put you in charge?” He challenged.

“I’m the oldest,” Ben said “I make the rules.”

Will rolled his eyes but complied, sauntering across the room and kneeling on the centre of the bed, arching his back and sticking his arse much higher in the air than was strictly necessary. There was a resounding “SMACK” as Skandar hit his left buttock. Instantly Will was on top of him, tickling him mercilessly. He shrieked and kicked but Will overpowered him easily, pinning him to the mattress. Ben stepped in before the whole plan could go to pot; slapping Will’s other arse cheek to get his attention. “Knees.” He said, pointing to the middle of the bed. Will did as he was told with a grin and Ben knelt behind him, opening the tube in his hand. “Skandy,” he called over his shoulder “go up to the headboard and make yourself comfortable.” The boy nodded mutely and Ben noticed as he made his way passed him that he was shaking. He grabbed him by the elbow and gave him a quick kiss to steel his nerves. It seemed to work, the brunette made it to the other end of the bed without incident and propped himself up against the pillows as Will had done earlier. He spread his legs and the blonde instantly moved forward to give his upright cock a quick swipe with his tongue. Skandar’s head flew back against the pillows and both older men smirked.

Ben coated two fingers liberally with lube and rubbed them together to warm them as Will started licking Skandar slowly, not wanting to get him too far gone too quickly. He circled Will’s hole with his fingers before pushing them in. God he was tight. “Jesus Will” he whispered “how long has it been?”

Will lifted his head. “A while.” He admitted.

Ben nodded and pushed his fingers in more slowly until they were fully seated. He left them there for Will to adjust until he felt the muscles clenching around his fingers, telling him to move. He moved slowly at first, picking up speed and curling his fingers, trying to find Will’s sweet spot. Will moaned when he found it and Skandar gave an involuntary shout as the vibrations went through his cock, fisting his hands in the sheets. Will was moving back on his fingers now, looking for more friction. He ignored his throbbing cock and added a third, getting another appreciative moan/squeak combination in thanks.

He couldn’t wait any longer. He pulled his fingers out and quickly coated his cock, throwing the tube somewhere near Will’s shoulder. He put his cock at Will’s hole. “Ready?” He asked. Will nodded and he sank in slowly, groaning at the tight heat. He pulled back slowly then thrust in hard, aiming for where he thought Will’s prostate was. All three of them moaned as he hit it, the force of his thrust pushing Will forward to take all of Skandar’s cock in at once. Ben glanced up to see the boy with his eyes closed and his head thrown back in pleasure. He picked up the pace, pulling back as far as he could before shoving back in again, pistoning his hips. Underneath him, Will didn’t need to move; the force of his thrusts was enough to do that for him. He just knelt there and enjoyed the double assault on his senses.

Ben heard a sharp intake of breath from Skandar and leaned to the side to see one of Will’s fingers, slick with lube, sliding gently into his hole. He grabbed Will’s hips and bit his lip to stop himself coming on the spot. He was far too close for his own good. He watched Will add another finger and Skandar started making little mewling noises. Will sucked harder to make up for the uncomfortable and unfamiliar feeling. Ben thrust harder, hitting his prostate directly, his breathing becoming more erratic. He tried to calm himself, but found himself unable to slow down.

“FUCK!”

He jumped at the yell that signalled at Will had found Skandar’s prostate. The boy was mewling again, but for different reasons this time as one hand fisted in Will’s hair and the other braced on his shoulder. Ben could see his hips rocking in time with his own thrusts now, clearly near the edge, a sheen of sweat covering his skin.

Determined not to be the first to come, he reached around and grabbed Will’s member, pumping it hard and fast. Moments later he felt the blonde shudder almost violently and warm come splattered over his fingers. Will’s muscles clamped down on him and it became impossibly tight. It was too good, it was too much and Ben felt his orgasm rip through him. With one almighty shove he came, and grabbed Will’s hips even harder to ride it out. At the other end of the bed, Will gave the head of Skandar’s cock a long hard suck and he came with an almost catlike wail.

They stayed still for several minutes, coming down slowly from their post-orgasmic highs. Will was the first to move, pulling his head from Skandar’s groin and moving off Ben’s cock to lie next to the boy. Ben crawled up the bed to flop down on Skandar’s other side, completely exhausted. He pulled the duvet up from where it had been kicked to the end of the bed and draped it over them all.

Skandy found his voice. “Wow.” He said hoarsely. “That was amazing.”

“Yeah.” Will whispered.

Ben just nodded mutely, drifting off to sleep.

************

He woke up the next morning feeling unnaturally happy and with a pleasant ache in his muscles. He tried to sit up to go for a shower but found his left shoulder pinned to the bed and his hips unable to move. He opened his eyes and blinked twice before he believed what he was seeing. Skandar was curled up against his side, his head on his shoulder, with what looked like a small puddle of drool forming near his nipple and one leg thrown possessively over his groin. Will was spooned against his back, already awake.

The blonde reached out an arm over the sleeping boy’s head and threaded it through Ben’s hair. “Morning.” He whispered.

“Hey,” Ben whispered back. “what time is it?”

Will raised an eyebrow at him.

“I can’t lift my head enough to read the clock.” He explained.

Will laughed gently and glanced over, his free hand stroking down Skandar’s side before coming to rest on his hip. In his sleep, Skandar took it and pulled tight across his stomach in the gap between him and Ben and laced their fingers together. Both men bit their lips to stop themselves from laughing. “It’s nearly eleven.” Will said.

Ben sighed and nodded. As comfortable as this was, he really needed to have a shower. He tried to move again but the leg across his hip tightened, trapping him in place. “Skandar,” he said softly “I need to have a shower.”

“No you don’t.” Was the muttered reply.

Will kissed the boy’s neck. “Aww, I’d never have picked you out as a snuggler Skan”

Skandar’s free leg shot back to kick Will in the shins. “I’m not.” He protested. “I’m comfy.”

Ben laughed loudly at this and Skandar rolled off him onto his back. He climbed out of bed and was nearly at the door before a thought occurred to him. “Will,” he called “d’you want to join me?”

“Sure.” Will said, getting up from where he’d been peppering kisses along the naked boy’s collarbone. He offered him a hand. “Skandy? You coming?”

Skandar waved them away and grabbed a pillow, hugging that instead. Ben turned on the shower to warm it up. “How long before he follows us?” He asked.

Will smiled. “Depends how much noise we make.”

FIN

Please note: Comment = Love

BOYS NIGHT IN

Sun, 22 Mar 2009 21:01:37 GMT

Title: Boys night in
Pairing: Ben/Will/Skandar
Rating: R to be on the safe side – nothing too graphic
Genre: Initially supposed to be smut, no idea what it ended up as. Comment and let me know.
Wordcount: 4161
Summary: On the set of Prince Caspian. The boys decide to unwind. My first (and considering how hard it was for me to write probably last) attempt at a threesome.
Disclaimer: I don’t own them or make any money from this, nor do I know if Skandar Keynes has a teddy bear called Charlie in real life or if William Moseley swallows.

Ben took another swig of beer and looked at Will challengingly over the top of his bottle. “Truth.”

The other man settled back against a pillow, stroking his own bottle thoughtfully. “Most embarrassing school moment?”

Ben shook his head and took another sip, preparing himself for more laughter. “Swimming.”

Will winced and hissed in sympathy instead. “Harsh.” He muttered. “What happened then?”

Ben smiled as he felt his Dutch courage settle in. “I was mocked.”

Will rolled his eyes. “Well obviously.”

“No it was worse than you think.” Ben insisted. “Cos you see, it was the very beginning of year nine and I hadn’t really grown yet.”

Will put his bottle down on the floor beside the bed. “Ah.”

“Yeah, it’s one thing to get hard in the changing rooms, quite another for there to be nothing worth looking at.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, you’re turn. Truth or dare?”

Will considered this a moment. “Truth.”

Will recovered quickly. “Yes.” He said. Ben’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “For a dare.” He added quickly.

“Um, hi. Sorry it’s late; I was just wondering if Will was here?”

The blonde in question slid off the bed and moved to stand behind him in the doorframe. “Hey Skandy, what’s up?”

Skandar looked defiantly at them. “I never said it was.”

Ben felt the need to stop an awkward moment before it happened. “D’you wanna come in Skandar?” He asked, jerking his head inside the room. “You know, hang out?”

“I’m not doing this to be polite Skan.” Ben assured him. “I said we’d hang out, we haven’t really had the chance to do that yet.”

Will slumped back against the headboard, golden hair falling in his eyes. “Christ, I’ve got to think of something now.” He said disappointedly.

Ben was intrigued. “Like what?” He asked, his eyes flicking to the pensive blonde on his right.

“Don’t worry.” Came the voice behind him. “He tends to go silent when he’s thinking.”

Ben nodded and rounded on Skandar. “What was the dream you we’re having on the plane over here?”

Ben grinned brightly at him. “Yep. Seemed to have you pretty excited.”

“Who we’re you getting it from?” Will asked.

“Oh no,” Skandar pointed a finger at him “that’s another question, you’ll have to wait till it’s my turn again. Truth or dare Will?”

Will pretended to consider it for a moment. “Truth.” Ben raised an eyebrow at him. “My dares may be bad, his are worse.” He explained.

“Do you swallow or spit Will?”

Skandar’s grin widened. “You brought it on yourself Will.” He chided. “If you’d only helped me out a minute ago, this might never have happened.”

Will pulled a face. “Swallow.” He said, still glaring at Skandar. He rounded on Ben. “Your turn. Truth or dare?”

Will shrugged. “People usually take it as a challenge when we say our dares are bad.”

Ben threw an empty crisp packet over the end of his bed and opened a new one. “Yes well I’m neither stupid, nor driven by my ego.”

Skandar grinned. “Your evil plan’s been foiled Will.”

His head jerked up. “Sorry what?” He asked.

Will was still staring at the ceiling. “Me and Skandar.” He clarified. “Who’s better looking?”

Will looked disappointed. “You can’t just get another question whenever you’re asked something you don’t want to tell.” He whined. “That ruins the game.”

“Fine.” Ben huffed, suddenly aware that his jeans were feeling tighter than they should have from looking at the two of them half naked. “Give me a dare then.”

As soon as the words left his mouth he knew he’d made a mistake. Will’s face split into a wide smile and Skandar put his head in his hand muttering “I warned you.”

“Take off your jeans.” Will ordered.

Skandar shrugged. “They’ll get worse.”

“Truth.” Skandar said. “I’ve got nothing to hide.”

“Her name’s Charlie.” Skandar stated.

“Her?” Ben questioned. Behind him Will sat up straighter, looking interested.

“Yeah,” he continued “my mum called her Charlotte but I didn’t want my friends to think I had a female teddy bear when they came round so I called her Charlie.”

Ben resisted the urge to reach out and hug him, even though what he’d said was very cute. He had a feeling it wouldn’t go down well.

“Skandar” Will said quietly “I think you should stop drinking now.”

“Truth.” Will said.

“I haven’t asked you yet!” Skandar exclaimed.

“You don’t need to.” Will said. “I’ll need to be a lot more drunk than this before I ask you for a dare again. New Year’s.” He explained. “Less said the better.”

Skandar giggled and they both looked at him in shock. “I’ve got one.” He said. “Something I’ve always wanted to know. Are you gay Will?”

Ben looked at him in shock. “You’ve never asked??”

“Nope.” Skandar said happily. “Never.”

He smiled teasingly. “And you feel the need to? Isn’t it obvious?” They ignored the indignant huff from Will.

Skandar’s grin widened impossibly. “Oh I know, I just want him to say it.”

He turned to Will who smiled slowly and put his hands up in defeat. “Ok,” he said “I admit it, I’m gay.”

Skandar leaned forward and patted Will on the knee. “Now,” he said “was that so hard?”

“What about you Ben?”

“Huh?” He hadn’t been expecting that.

Will shrugged. “Well I assumed you wouldn’t be going for a dare. Was I wrong?” Ben shook his head, dumbfounded. “Good.”

“WHAT?”

Even Will looked a little shocked at this. “That’s a very personal question Ben.” He said.

“And my sexual preference isn’t?” He countered.

Skandar butted in before it could turn into a full-blown argument. “Yes.” He said. “I am.”

Ben looked at him and he flushed again. “Really?”

Will came to his rescue. “He’s only been 16 a week.” He reminded him.

Skandar shook his head.

Ben was amazed. “Wow.” He said. “You never wanted to?”

Skandar shook his head again. “Screaming girls aren’t exactly my thing.”

Ben suddenly became aware that William had gone very still and quiet at the other end of the bed which for someone who could normally be described as Tigger on amphetamines was worrying.

“Will, are you ok?” Skandar asked.

Ben watched fascinated as the scene in front of him played out.

“Truth or dare Will?” Skandar asked.

Will looked at him challengingly. “Dare.”

Skandar grinned. “I dare you to kiss me.”

He yanked Skandar closer and thrust his tongue into his mouth.

************

He woke up the next morning feeling unnaturally happy and a pleasant ache in his muscles. He tried to sit up to go for a shower but found his left shoulder pinned to the bed and his hips unable to move. He opened his eyes and blinked twice before he believed what he was seeing. Skandar was curled up against his side, his head on his shoulder, with what looked like a small puddle of drool forming near his nipple and one leg thrown possessively over his groin. Will was spooned against his back, already awake.

The blonde reached out an arm over the sleeping boy’s head and threaded it through Ben’s hair. “Morning.” He whispered.

“Hey,” Ben whispered back. “what time is it?”

Will raised an eyebrow at him.

“I can’t lift my head enough to read the clock.” He explained.

“No you don’t.” Was the muttered reply.

Will kissed the boy’s neck. “Aww, I’d never have picked you out as a snuggler Skan”

Skandar’s free leg shot back to kick Will in the shins. “I’m not.” He protested. “I’m comfy.”

“Sure.” Will said, getting up from where he’d been peppering kisses along the naked boy’s collarbone. He offered him a hand. “Skandy? You coming?”

Skandar waved them away and grabbed a pillow, hugging that instead. Ben turned on the shower to warm it up. “How long before he follows us?” He asked.

Will smiled. “Depends how much noise we make.”

FIN

Please note: Comments = Love

BACK IN THE 'REAL' WORLD

Sun, 01 Mar 2009 18:57:10 GMT

Title: Back in the ‘Real’ World
Pairing: Peter/ Edmund
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Smut (porn for intellectuals)
Word Count: 3323 but worth it!
Warnings: roleplay but not – it’ll become clear when you read it.
Summary: written for yazzigazzi who requested Pete/Ed in the real world. Set after PC.

Edmund closed the door with a ‘snap’ and stalked towards his brother with a predatory look on his face. “Well, head boy, this certainly is an unusual sleeping arrangement we have here. I’ve never heard of the high and mighty sharing a room with a lowly prefect before.”

Pete chuckled and put an arm over his eyes as Edmund straddled him on the bed. “Yeah well no head boy has had to face the prospect of someone else getting to share a room with you before have they?” He answered, still not moving as Edmund’s hands set to work undoing his pyjama shirt.

“You should have seen Jones’s face when he heard that.” Came an amused voice from above him. “I thought he might wet himself. Peter Pevensie, head boy. He might as well have signed a suicide note. He still thinks you’re going to beat him you know.” He added lightly.

Peter removed his arm and looked up confusedly. “Who in God’s name is Jones?” He asked.

Edmund rolled his eyes and sat back on his heels. “The guy you got in a fight with at the station. You know? Tall, broad, always asking you to apologise for barging into him?”

Something registered in Pete’s brain. A distant memory, like a dream he couldn’t quite remember. “Oh him,” he said tiredly “vaguely.” The arm dropped back down over his eyes.

“Well?” Edmund said expectantly.

“Well what?”

“Are you going to beat him?”

Pete stifled a yawn. “Probably,” he conceded “but not tonight. Too tired. I’ll do it tomorrow. When he’s had a chance to think it over. I’ll let him come to me.”

Edmund nodded. “We’re not going to have sex tonight are we?” He asked disappointedly.

Peter shook his head. “No, sorry. Haven’t got the energy or the will. Maybe tomorrow when I’ve recovered. Travelling between worlds can take a lot out of you.” Edmund flopped beside him. “You’re getting old Pete.”

Peter snuggled closer, throwing a leg across Edmund's possessively. “That I am. I shall need you young and spritely types to take care of me soon enough.”

Edmund snorted. “Go to sleep Peter.”

Peter smiled. “Sweet dreams.”

*********************

He awoke in the morning from a very pleasant dream about playing cricket in the garden on Professor Kirke’s house to find Edmund stroking him through his pyjamas. He moaned and turned to face the dark haired boy who was lying on his side with a look of amusement on his face.

“Good morning.” He said brightly. “Welcome back, lovely day and all.” He gave a squeeze and Peter moaned again, biting his lip to contain the sound. Edmund nodded approvingly. “You probably should keep quiet,” he said thoughtfully, “I don’t think it would do for us to be seen together like this. Now,” his voice turned business like “I usually don’t like to mention this so early in the morning, but you rather left me high and dry last night. I think you should make it up to me.”

Peter’s eyes widened in shock. “Here?” He whispered. “NOW?”

Edmund nodded solemnly. “And you’ll have to be fairly quick about it too, people will be getting up for breakfast soon.”

Peter started to feel panic building in his gut. He wished he could think straight, but Edmund’s hand was still doing the most delicious things to his cock. Every now and then he would twist in just the right way and everything in Peter’s head would go blank for a few seconds. He tried to come up with a reasonable argument for why Edmund was being completely insane.

“But surely someone’ll notice if one of us comes down with a very strange limp before we’ve even had one games lesson?” He tried.

Edmund laughed. “I don’t expect that Pete, not now anyway. I rather thought we might put your mouth to better use.”

Peter felt a rush of desire go through him and he bit his lip to stop a whimper as he nodded his consent. Edmund grinned ferally and leaned forward to kiss him. Their lips met gently, tiredly, and it was Peter who escalated the situation by pushing Edmund back onto the mattress by the shoulders. The dark haired boy sighed contentedly against his lips and wrapped an arm around his neck to draw him closer.

“TIME IS TENNN PAAAAST SEVERRRRRN!”

They both jumped as a boy shouted in the corridor, Peter grabbing onto his headboard to avoid falling out of bed. He looked up at Edmund. “I think we need to speed things up a bit.” Edmund nodded furiously and shimmied his pyjamas down passed his hips, his cock springing forward to attention. Peter rolled his eyes. “Subtle, Ed.” Edmund stuck his tongue out at him and flopped back onto the pillow.

Peter bent his head down and gave the head an experimental flick. It wasn’t that he was unpractised, just that he seemed to be a good deal less coordinated in this body than he was as an adult. Edmund’s free hand bunched in the sheets as it always did though, so he assumed he was doing something right. He dragged his tongue from root to tip, circling the head gently before sucking it into his mouth. He luxuriated in the feel of the weight against his tongue, ignoring his own throbbing cock in an attempt to make things just the way his lover liked them. They had discovered when they came back from the wardrobe incident that the first time after swapping dimensions felt like the first time ever and judging by the way Edmund’s muscle groups were flexing as he took more of the cock into his mouth, his brother was enjoying his fourth loss of innocence. He smiled smugly as Ed’s knee jerked upwards involuntarily through frustration and lust (practice allowed him to avoid getting hit in the face). The time call for twenty past seven rang through the halls and Edmund looked down pleadingly at him with black eyes, aware that they were running out of time if they wanted to look normal at breakfast. Peter nodded slightly and swallowed him to the hilt. He gagged a little, cursing his newly virgined throat, and forced his muscles to relax. He started bobbing his head in earnest glancing up to see Edmund writhing on the mattress, pillows and blankets thrown over both sides of the bed to the floor. He moved his hands to Edmund’s hips as they started bucking off the mattress to hold them down. His jaw was hurting now and he redoubled his efforts, sucking and swirling his tongue around the head. He was rewarded as Edmund stiffened with a stifled moan and hot bitter cum splashed onto his tongue. He swallowed it and kept swallowing around the softening member in his mouth, trying to stretch out the other boy’s orgasm for as long as he could.

After a moment he sat back on his heels and stared at his blessed out lover sprawled across the bed. It was moments like these that made all the swapping between different lives worthwhile. So beautiful, so calm. It would be traitorous to break it. But of course it was broken. The shouting started outside again and Edmund jumped out of bed panicking that he only had half an hour to breakfast. Peter sighed amusedly, pushing his brother into a hot shower to explain away the redness of his skin and set about doing damage control on the bed before getting changed. He could go one day with greasy hair.

*********************

He was lying on his bed, reading a book and still in a foul temper from having to beat Jones when Edmund came in, closing the door behind him. Peter was glad to see the sympathy in his brother’s eyes; he knew how much Pete hated inflicting pain on children. He put the book away as Edmund sat down on his bed with a frown and stroked the hair from his eyes.

“How did it go?” He whispered.

Peter shrugged. “Better than it might have.” He admitted. Edmund nodded but the frown didn’t disappear from his forehead. Peter’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What are you worrying about?” He asked.

“Nothing.” Edmund said too quickly.

Peter raised an eyebrow in disbelief and the other boy blushed, definitive proof that he was lying. Poor boy thought Peter he’s got another ten years before he’ll be able to control that tell again. He poked him in the ribs, eliciting a squeal. “My arse it’s nothing.” He admonished then said more gently. “Come on Ed, spit it out. What’s eating you?”

Edmund fidgeted nervously before him. Peter fought the urge to grab him and tell him to stay still; he had a feeling it really wouldn’t help at the moment. He took a deep breath and waited for Edmund to collect his thoughts. Just as he was contemplating reaching over and picking up his book again, Edmund spoke.

“Do you think anyone’ll get suspicious?” He asked in a rush.

Peter was taken aback, he’d expected he’d get at least two weeks of reckless, happy Edmund before serious, Kingy Edmund took over again. He pulled his brother to his side and kissed his hair when he felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist. “No.” He said after a moment. “I don’t.” Edmund looked up at him with big unsure eyes. Peter continued, needing his brother to trust him on this. “I had a word with Taylor after breakfast. As far as he can tell, most of the school thinks you’ve been put in here to keep and eye on me.” Edmund snorted with laughter into his chest. Peter changed his voice to mock indignation, happy Eddie’s mood was lifting. “Shut up you, I wasn’t that bad last term.” Edmund tried to push off him, probably with a retort to the effect that he had been worse than bad, but Peter pulled him tight again. “Nuh-uh, not getting away that easily. Now as regards to the various dances we’ll need to go to this year, I think our best course of action is to get Su to set us up with different girls every time.” He let Edmund pull away from him this time and registered the confusion in his eyes. “A heartbreaker reputation is a lot easier to maintain than a fake girlfriend.” He explained, trying to sound wise.

His brother still looked unconvinced. “You really think it would work?”

Peter nodded. “Of course it will. I mean, look at Caspian. Do you really think he was that into Susan after the way he cornered us before the coronation? Even we thought he was straight before that.”

Edmund laughed at the memory. “Fair enough.” He said. Peter watched as his eyes changed from humour to lust with anticipation. “So head boy” his brother said “you’ve punished Jones, what about me? Do I need punishing?”

“Definitely not.” Edmund looked more than a little disappointed and Peter pulled him onto his lap, a non trivial feat now they were almost the same size. “But I would like to be ravaged by King Edmund the Just if you can arrange it.” He said.

Immediately Edmund’s demeanour changed. He drew himself up to his full height and looked down his nose at him. Peter grinned, he had a feeling he would be thoroughly used by the end of tonight. His heart raced as Edmund leaned towards him, placing his mouth up against his ear. “On your knees boy.” He breathed. Peter felt a rush of desire shoot through him and almost knocked Edmund, his King for the night, off the bed in his hurry to comply. That earned him a stinging slap on the rear and he bit his lip against a moan as pleasure flooded through him.

The King moved in front of him and tugged his head down for a kiss, quickly unbuttoning his pyjama top as he did so. Their kiss was rougher than it had been this morning, tongues and teeth clashing. Peter became aware that he was probably being a bit too demanding and slowed down, he still wasn’t used to giving up control. It was only when Edmund moved his mouth to Peter’s neck that he noticed Ed had somehow managed to get his pyjama shirt off too. He arched his back and pressed their torsos together, revelling in the slide of skin on skin. Unthinking, he grabbed Ed’s arse then found himself face down on the mattress with his arse in the air seconds later cursing himself for his insubordination as Edmund stepped off the bed, worried he’d blown it. Soon enough though, he felt the mattress dip behind him and his pyjama bottoms were eased down and off his legs. He shivered slightly in the cold of their bedroom then jerked as he felt a familiar liquid at his hole. Edmund rubbed his back affectionately.

“Calm down Peter” he ordered “you’ll do yourself an injury.”

Peter nodded into the mattress and forced himself to breathe deeper, he loved feeling out of control. Maybe though he thought I’d have done better to leave this for when I’m not about to lose my virginity again. All further thought left his brain as Edmund pushed a finger in all the way, hitting his prostate with years of practice. He moaned deeply into his pillow, all too aware of the hundred or so boys sleeping down the halls. Another finger joined the first and Peter bunched the pillow up and stuffed it in his mouth to stop himself from making any noise. Ed was moving torturously slowly, dragging the pads of his fingers back and forth over his prostate. Peter felt himself stretch to accommodate a third well oiled finger and wrapped his hands around the bars on his headboard to brace himself for what was to come. But the fingers just kept moving, torturing him, making him fall apart. Every now and then Edmund would twist his hand, corkscrewing his fingers deeper and Peter would jerk as he felt an extra wave of pleasure run through him. He had no idea how much time had passed, only that his brain was unravelling at a worrying rate. He tried to grind his cock into the mattress for more friction, but his hips were yanked back up again and held in place. He was weeping now, both from his cock and his eyes in frustration. He was just about to spit the pillow out and beg Edmund and damn the consequences when the fingers were whipped out of him and replace with something much more solid at his hole.

Edmund pushed in slowly, trying not to hurt him, but Peter was too far gone to worry about being careful. He pushed back and Edmund took the hint, sliding into him in one go. He groaned happily at feeling so full, Edmund trailing feather light kisses across his shoulders. He rocked his hips, encouraging him to move. Edmund pulled back and thrust sharply back in to the hilt, hitting his sweet spot. Peter all but screamed, gripping the rails harder and twisting his head. Edmund grabbed his hips for leverage and picked up the pace, pulling nearly all the way out before thrusting back in again.

Peter could feel his orgasm building in him, feel it coiling around his stomach. What he really needed was to touch himself. If he took himself in his hand and wanked off it wouldn’t take more than a few seconds. But Edmund was fucking him so hard that if he took one of his hands off the rails he’d go crashing head first into the headboard and that definitely would be enough to wake up the rest of the boys on his floor, even if his moaning wasn’t. So he stayed put. Edmund was going at an even more punishing pace now, hitting his prostate forcefully with every strike. Both their breathings were ragged and his need to come was edging closer and closer towards painful.

“Ed.” He moaned into the pillow. The noise sounded distant even to his own ears and he spat it out angrily, not caring about the line of spit that still connected it to his mouth. “Ed,” he begged “please, I need… I need to…” Edmund seemed to ignore him, his thrusts becoming harder and more erratic. Peter hung his head and tried again. “Please,” he whispered “Your Majesty -” His words died in his throat as a hand whipped round and grabbed his cock, pumping it in time with his thrusts. Seconds later his vision went white, every muscle in his body seemed to tense and he felt himself being flung over the edge as he came, sobbing with relief as he collapsed on the bed. He was still riding out his orgasm when Edmund came moments later and didn’t notice until he came down from his high and felt a familiar weight against his back pinning him to the mattress. He lay content as Edmund rolled off to let him breathe, letting out a soft whimper as his cock left his hole. Not having the energy to roll over himself, he turned his head to face his lover who was propped up on an elbow facing him on the narrow bed and still breathing more heavily than usual.

They lay in silence for a minute before Pete summed up the energy to ask a question that had popped into his head. “Where did you get the oil Ed?” He wondered. “Did you bring it all the way from the Professor’s?”

Edmund laughed shaking his head. “Nah, I relieved the kitchen of it today after lunch. I doubt they’ll notice it’s missing for a while.”

Peter rolled his eyes and moved onto his back so Ed could snuggle up to him. “Typical,” he said as he stroked the pale boy’s hair. “We’ve been back a day and you’re already breaking the rules.”

Edmund laughed again. “Love you too Pete.”

*********************

Autumn froze into winter which melted into spring and before they knew where they were it was summer again and a week before the Leavers’ Ball at school. It was on this morning that Edmund had left Peter hard and horny in their bed, claiming it would make things more fun later and it was at breakfast that Peter exacted his revenge, there was nothing in the world like a jealous Edmund.

He stood up just before people were about to start drifting off to lessons and raised his hands for silence. “Good morning, just wanted a quick word about next week’s ball. As most of you know, I have yet to find a lady to take with me. Is there anyone who would like to specifically request I not take their sister?” Peter bit back a laugh. His reputation obviously preceded him; at least three dozen hands went up. He tried to look offended. “That many? I’m hurt. Honestly, I promise to be an almost perfect gentleman.” He glanced around again. No one looked convinced. “No one’s changed their mind? Ok, duly noted. That was all.” He sat down again to see his brother glaring at him and covered his smile with a sip of tea.

Edmund cornered him in the hallway later that morning. Peter was walking along when he felt his wrist grabbed and he was pulled into an alcove. Edmund sounded nervous. “What are you doing Pete?” He hissed. “You’re not planning to do anything with those girls are you?”

Peter chuckled stroking his cheek. “Don’t worry.” He said. “You have my word. I will be as much of a gentleman as I can be without raising suspicion. None of them will be leaving my room ravished that night.” He patted Edmund’s arse and moved back out into the still empty corridor. He winked. “Which is more than I can say for you.”

THE END

Please Comment!

something i started ages ago...

Sun, 22 Feb 2009 19:33:42 GMT

as title implies, this is something i started ages ago. found it on my comp just now and need honest opinions as to whether i should continue it. 'tis angsty at the moment but the whole thing is likely to be very fluffy, NC-17 rated and reasonably witty. oh, and also epically long (but won't let it interfere with my other writing)

The slightest movement is a monumental mistake in some circumstances. High king Peter had learned quickly that no matter how tempting it may be to jump out and surprise his sister, whilst she had a bow in her hand it was far safer to stay hidden in the undergrowth. The rather ugly scar on his leg stood as a lasting testament to that.

As he lay in a tangle of tree roots he mused on this. It had been Edmund’s fault really. There would be no way that he would have shouted “boo” quite so loud if he had been on his own. In fact, if Edmund had just left him alone in the first place and had not insisted that they go out hunting, Peter would not have been in a position to get shot. He would have been nice and safe in his bed, asleep. Or perhaps in the gardens with Lucy, listening to her go on about how she loved the stars in Narnia. So much brighter than the ones at home.

On the other hand, it could have been Susan’s fault. It really was no business of hers what he and Edmund were doing in the forest. All right, he supposed, they might have done better to tell her where they were going at 2 in the morning but it hadn’t seemed that important at the time. Edmund, of course, had laughed at him for weeks about it all. High King Peter the Magnificent hobbling around like a child just learning to walk.

All in all, he concluded, the fault of the matter was largely irrelevant, he was just keen that it didn’t happen again. Which was why he was currently lying on his front in the forest, trying not to breathe too loud.

Susan lowered her bow and sighed exasperatedly. “Peter? I know you’re there Peter. Come out now or I will shoot you.”

Peter got to his feet slowly and emerged from behind a bush to the sight of his sister and, much to his chagrin, Caspian. He vaguely registered someone talking to him as he tried to puzzle over how he had not noticed that the Prince (King now he reminded himself) had been standing there all the time. Unfortunately, “huh?” Was the most intelligent sound he could make. He cursed himself inwardly for not thinking of something more clever. He was sure he could do that last time they were here.

Susan sighed again. “I asked what you were doing here Peter.”

Avoiding you he thought. Avoiding you and everyone else that can’t seem to make any sort of decision without my signature on it. If truth be told he had been trying to avoid them all for days but just when he thought that he could slip out and leave his siblings to it, something genuinely important cropped up and he felt compelled to stay and sort it out.

That morning had been particularly tedious. Fights had broken out amongst the dwarfs and, unable to find a solution themselves, they had decided to take it to the highest authority in the land. Him. Why? He wondered. Narnia had 3 Kings and 2 Queens and all of them were perfectly capable of sorting out this kind of disagreement. And actually, he continued, would King Edmund the Just not be a more obvious choice for this kind of conflict? He supposed that it must have something to do with wanting to argue out the case in the splendour of his courtroom rather than actually wanting to come to an amiable conclusion, for they had certainly not done that. They had screamed and shouted at each other until they were blue in the face and then called in other members of their parties to carry on screaming whilst they took a break.

He had eventually been rescued because they went on for so long that he had missed his sparring practice and Edmund had come to find him. Peter had taken the opportunity to escape after handing the case over to his somewhat stunned little brother, assuring the dwarfs that Ed would work tirelessly with them to resolve their issue and all but running out of the castle doors.

He had been walking for hours before he felt himself calm down enough to think about what he had done. Sitting by a stream somewhere in the forest, he had been able to reflect on his life in Narnia.

Last time they had been here it had all been new. When they had defeated the White Witch together the whole of Narnia had been so pleased that it had been nearly a decade before there were any major problems to sort out. This time there were treaties to be formed, towns to be rebuilt, farming to be organised, weapons to be disposed of and all the rest of the clean up from a very bloody war. On top of that, the Narnians wanted things to go back to the old way as soon as possible which meant that the castle had to be rebuilt, the gardens re-sown, traditions re-established and balls and banquets had to be re-organised. All in all there had been too much for him to do. There were only 24 hours in the day and Peter generally like to allot at least 9 of them to sleep.

But he was their king and he had to put their interests before his own. He felt guilty for running out on them like that. He was supposed to have had a meeting with some foreign ambassadors that afternoon to discuss new treaties which no doubt he would have missed. It probably fell to Edmund to do.

That was something else he felt guilty about. Edmund. He had just run out and dumped it all on his little brother. Little brother who he knew had a fairly full schedule already. God knows what that must have done for Eddy’s stress.

It was this that had prompted Peter to head back to the castle and try to make amends. This was no time for being selfish. His people needed him and as their king, they were his responsibility to rule. The dwarfs were his problem, not Edmund’s, likewise the treaties. He had sighed to himself. This was going to take a lot of Turkish Delight to put right again.

It had been while he was thinking this that he had spotted arrows with Phoenix feather fletching through the trees and had promptly flattened himself to the ground.

Peter slumped his shoulders and kicked at the ground as he withered under his sister’s glare. “Nothing.”

“Nothing? Peter we’ve been worried sick. You’ve been gone for hours. What if something had happened to you?”

He looked around him. The sun was setting over the forest and he felt another pang of guilt in his stomach. He hadn’t intended to be out this long. Just a few hours he had told himself. But he thought we were only going to be in that wardrobe for a couple of minutes, and look how that turned out. Clearly his timekeeping needed some work.

Deciding that the best defence was a good offence, he turned his attention to Caspian. “What’s he doing here anyway?” Caspian looked startled but was saved from making comment by Susan.

“He was worried about you Peter, we all were. We searched the castle for you. Lucy was crying. Edmund,” Peter’s head snapped up to look at Susan “was almost hysterical. He was convinced that you’d been kidnapped and he was never going to see you again.” Peter looked back down at the ground, tears brimming up in his eyes. Seeing that he was upset, Susan continued more gently. “Come on Peter, let’s get you home.” Taking his arm she guided him out of the forest and back to the castle; Caspian following at a respectful distance deep in his own thoughts.

Lucy was furious. After throwing her arms around her brother in relief she had slapped him across the face with more force than he would have believed possible for one so small and proceeded to shout at him for a good half an hour before she ran out of unpleasant names. Eventually it was Caspian who stepped in and suggested that they move things to a more private location than the entrance hall and the group followed him silently to the library where he poured them all a drink (except Lucy who it was generally agreed was still too young, much to her annoyance) and asked that while they were in his castle, they conducted this conversation a little more diplomatically. This proved to be the final straw for Lucy who took one look at Peter and burst into loud wails of tears. Susan rushed over to comfort her and after several minutes of hugs and gentle kisses throughout which the boys had glanced awkwardly at each other in an uncomfortable silence; had calmed her down enough to say that she was over-tired and in need of rest from the day’s trauma; they would continue this in the morning. With Lucy tucked under her arm still sobbing slightly she bid them goodnight and left them.

And then, Peter thought there were three. Caspian, himself and the guilt that had been threatening to consume him for hours. Caspian looked at him in half-pity, half-anger as he pushed himself off the wall near the door that he had been leaning against and sat down on a chair opposite Peter. He got the feeling that he was being analysed, that he was some kind of specimen that Caspian was investigating but was unsure how to proceed. Peter shifted uncomfortably in his chair and stared down into his untouched drink morosely. He wished that Caspian would just shout at him, hit him, do something other than sit there and look at him with that calm, patient gaze just waiting for him to crack. He didn’t have to wait long.

Peter downed his drink and asked shakily “Where’s Edmund?”

“Your brother,” said Caspian “is upstairs resting. I am afraid that today’s exertions were a little more than he could take.”

“Ah, right” Peter looked up at Caspian “so, um, what were you doing in the forest with Susan?”

Caspian paused for a moment before answering “I was looking for you.”

Something in Caspian’s tone made Peter feel that he was on very dangerous ground. His gaze was too calm, his tone too detached, his posture too casual. Something was bubbling beneath the surface and Peter wanted it out in the open as soon as possible.

“Why?” He asked, trying to keep his tone as calm as possible.

Caspian leaned forward and poured him another drink. “I was worried. The high king of Narnia does not usually disappear with no word to his subjects.” His voice was a little less cool now, it shook slightly with suppressed anger. Caspian took a deep breath and continued in a light, conversational tone that left Peter in no doubt that he was in a lot of trouble right now.

“If the high king vanishes from the castle only months after a bloody civil war then people will tend to be worried. His siblings in particular will no doubt wonder where he is. The eldest, will be thrown into a new role of authority to which she is not accustomed. A very stressful role as I am sure you are aware.

“The youngest in this instance was not aware of your disappearance for some hours and so suffered less than she might otherwise have done. I suppose that we must be grateful for that small mercy. She spent most of her time confused as to why you had left and whether it was any fault of her own.

“And your brother,” Peter flinched as Caspian’s voice so soft and liquid, became a blade of steel at the mention of Edmund. “Your lover” Caspian continued, voice now cold and hard and shaking through gritted teeth with suppressed emotion “who is familiar with the consequences of war and the events that can often take place in the aftermath, was firmly convinced that you had been captured by rogue Talmarine soldiers from my Uncle’s army and that he would never see you again.” Caspian’s voice was little more than a whisper but Peter’s ears rang as though Aslan had just roared next to his head.

He sat in shock as he processed what he had just been told. What had he done? How could he have been so stupid? How could he not have realised what his disappearance would do to the others? “Is he alright?” He asked.

Caspian flopped back into his chair and regarded Peter for a moment before answering. “I could not say. When I left him he was still in considerable distress but he was a lot better than when he first discovered you were gone.” Peter nodded soberly and sipped at his whiskey. “He was inconsolable for the first hour. He managed to work himself into such a state that the doctors feared for his breathing at one point. He only stopped when I gave him my word that I would find you and that I would not rest until you were safely back within the castle walls. He would have gone himself but the exertion would have killed him.

“And that, High King Peter is what I was doing in the woods with your sister from midday until sunset.” They sat in awkward silence for a few minutes, Peter staring into the fire collecting his thoughts, Caspian shifting in his seat before standing and walking to a window and looking out into the night. When he spoke again it was softer. “Why did you do it?”

Peter looked at him, confused. Caspian glanced back over his shoulder and asked again “Why did you leave with so little warning? Why did you leave your siblings? Your people?”

“I couldn’t take it.” Was the mumbled reply.

Caspian spun ‘round. “Couldn’t take it?” He hissed. “Couldn’t take it? You fought against Miraz, you duelled against him and you won. You lead the Narnians to victory. Twice. Against two different foes! What could you possibly not take?”

Peter braced himself on the armrests and forced himself to stand, to face Caspian. “I couldn’t take being the head of a country that has never had a proper leader. They come to me with their worries and their woes and, god help me, their crop rotations and they just expect me to fix everything for them on the spot.”

“That is what being King is all about.” Said Caspian.

“But it wasn’t last time” blurted Peter. “Last time it was all joy and songs. The people had been in winter for so long that when it came to spring they rejoiced. And we pushed them in the right direction and let them get on with it. By the time anything serious happened we were older, wiser. This time it’s two kingdoms, two peoples that just happen to be sharing the same bit of land. There’s too many of them. Too many little problems, too many troubles. It’s closing in on me, I can’t breathe any more. I needed to get out.”

Caspian clasped a hand on his shoulder and looked seriously at him. “If you think it is stressful now, consider what it will be like for me when you have all gone back to Spare ‘Oom.”

Peter frowned. “I hadn’t thought of that.” He admitted. “How will you cope?”

Caspian smiled. “Oh I am sure that some sort of council can be put in place to help me run the more tedious aspects of a kingdom. And of course I will have my advisers.” His face turned more serious again. “Aslan has hinted that he does not think that these troubles will last very much longer. If it is the joys of Narnia you are missing then I am sure it can be arranged for them to be brought back. But running away from your problems never solves anything, it only complicates them. Nor do I think that it is appropriate behaviour for a high king. Sir.” He added as an afterthought with a slight bow.

“I am sorry Caspian” said Peter.

“Do not be.” Caspian replied. “It is not I that you owe an apology, for it is not I that you have hurt. Now, if his majesty will permit it, it is late and I would like to go to bed. There is a charming young Duchess who is awaiting my attention.”

Peter laughed genuinely for the first time that day at Caspian’s roguish grin and hopeful face. Waving, he bid the king goodnight. The dark haired man was almost at the door when he heard the high king say “And Caspian, thank you.” Caspian nodded and left the room leaving Peter alone to his thoughts.

He fell into a chair and put his head into his hands. His outburst had left him with a kind of relief, but the knowledge that he had hurt Edmund had left him feeling empty. Staring into the fire he thought about how much damage he had caused. How his moment of selfishness had caused so much pain. He knew that Edmund had every right to hate him but he also knew that he wouldn’t. And for that Peter hated himself. He wondered idly if there was enough Turkish delight in the world to make it up to Edmund. Probably not, he mused. But it was unlikely that sweets alone would help. This was Peter’s mess. He had started it so he could fix it.

Dragging himself from the sanctuary of the library, he climbed the stairs to his quarters. Edmund was snoring gently when he entered his room but his brow was furrowed and he was tossing fitfully in his sleep. Glancing at a clock he could see that it was long gone midnight. Apologising would wait till the morning. Peter undressed and slipped into bed next to his brother who stirred in his sleep but didn’t wake. Instead he rolled over and threw and arm possessively across Peter’s stomach, snuggled closer and began to snore louder. Peter lay on his back and smiled up at the ceiling. His last thought as he was drifting off to sleep was that he wished it could always be like this, even in Spare Oom.

Peter had known that the next morning would be awkward; his family rarely gave up on argument just because they had been too tired to finish it the night before. He had known that there would be need for explanations and apologies; he had known that his family would be hurt. He knew that there would be many ‘discussions’ about why he left during the course of the day. He just hadn’t expected them to start so early.

Edmund was not normally an early bird. Usually, it would take all of Peter’s persuasive abilities to coerce him out of bed before lunchtime. Just his luck therefore, that the one time he would have liked Ed to stay asleep a little bit longer, that he brother woke early from a nightmare.

Edmund had not taken his brother’s reappearance well; in fact he stormed out of the room. Peter heaved a sigh of frustration and threw an arm across his face. It was not supposed to go like this. He had had it all planned out in meticulous detail the night before. Edmund would wake up mid morning in Peter’s arms and with Peter’s finger’s playing with his hair. Peter would kiss him gently and say “morning gorgeous” and Edmund would blush and nuzzle his face in Peter’s chest and say “shut up.” It was Edmund’s favourite way to wake up (no matter WHAT he told the others) and Peter knew that. It would have been immaculate if it had happened.

In reality, his morning kiss happened half an hour later once Eddy had calmed down enough to talk to him. His voice had been dead and hollow and for all Caspian’s promises that he had been asleep since noon the previous day, he looked like he had not slept for a week. Peter had cried. Edmund had cried. Peter had held Ed on his lap and rocked them back and forth mumbling “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” into his neck for what seemed like an age before Edmund had raised his head and pressed his lips against his brother’s to silence him. When they broke apart Peter had hugged him even tighter and whispered to him like a man in confession.

“I felt so trapped Ed, I needed to get out. All these things to do and not enough time to do them. I can’t do it on my own Ed, there’s just too many of them. Too many problems. Little things, little time consuming things that have nothing to do with my role here. I’m not a farmer, I can’t advise them on crop rotations. I’m not a Judge, I don’t know what Dwarf law says regarding the possession of trophy swords. I’m a king, and as long as I’m stuck in here doing meeting after meeting with people I do not recognise by sight let alone know the name of I cannot be king. I needed to get out.” Edmund was shaking again and to Peter’s very great surprise it turned out to be with laughter. “What?” He asked, looking down.

It took Ed a few minutes to get his laughter under sufficient control that he could talk again. “It’s just that… (giggle)… if you’d actually gone to your meeting with the ambassadors yesterday, you would know that they suggested setting up a sort of council that the Narnians and Talmorines could go to with problems that did not specifically require a monarch to deal with them.”

“Oh” said Peter. He was mortified. If he had felt an idiot about running away from things yesterday, it was nothing to how he felt now. Two more hours. If he had managed to stick it out for two more hours then none of this would have happened. His embarrassment must have showed on his face because Ed was grinning now.

“Caspian seemed quite keen on the idea. You know he’s been tied up with something the centaurs are worried about for weeks now?” Edmund gazed out of the window. “Aslan popped by too yesterday. Said that he expected things to calm down soon anyway. You really don’t have that much to worry about Pete.”

“Yeah,” said Peter “Caspian told me about that last night.”

Edmund turned round to face him. “You spoke to Caspian?”

“Well,” Peter pulled a face, “Caspian spoke to me. Told me off for running away from my problems. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He added. “It really didn’t occur to me what you might all have thought of my disappearance. I was originally coming back because I was worried about how much I had added to your work schedule.”

Edmund laughed. “That’s my brother. Very practical, not so good with emotions…” he got no further as Peter lunged forward and began to tickle him mercilessly.

“Not so good with emotions? I am High King Peter the Magnificent I’ll have you know. I’m great at everything.”

Edmund’s shrieks must have been louder than they anticipated for a moment later Susan and Lucy burst through the door in their night gowns flanked by guards just in time to catch them in a very compromising position on the bed where Peter had pinned down Edmund’s arms and had straddled him to prevent his escape.

Aaaaand, that's where i got to sometime last July. let me know what you think.

25 THINGS

Sun, 22 Feb 2009 19:01:49 GMT

25 things that I, Skandar Keynes, want to do before I feel grown up.

1. annoy Disney

2. drive Will’s jag at 140 with the roof down

3. get so off my face I start singing Barbie Girl

4. see the northern lights

5. do a bungee jump

6. learn to juggle

7. join the mile-high club

8. learn to run on those powerizers the centaurs use

9. post weird but true facts about myself on Wikipedia and see how long it takes for them to be dismissed as myth#

10. learn to dance then waltz with Will

11. have sex in Will’s car

12. have a food fight with Anna

13. Organise ‘Lads Night Out’ consisting of sitting around watching Tom and Jerry – convince everyone to come

14. go to Disney World dressed as Peter Pan

15. walk through London in full armour – as people what they’re staring at

16. make huge stickmen drawings. Have these framed use to decorate house

17. play rugby in a suit

18. do some SERIOUS off roading in a hire car

19. attempt to teach Americans cricket – then invite them in for tea and scones

20. play hangman on silk pyjamas with a marker pen – have this framed also

21. take teddybear to set for a day, INSIST people call him ‘sir’

22. watch Star Wars films back to back until I’m convinced I can feel the force too

23. ~~get a blowjob at an awards ceremony~~

24. watch the migration in Kenya

25. give 1 piece of coursework in on time.

THIS IS SUCH A BAD IDEA

Sun, 22 Feb 2009 18:43:39 GMT

Title: This is SUCH a bad idea.
Pairing: Will/Skandar
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Smut, veering towards PWP.
Word Count: 1 997
Warnings: sex in a semi public place? Lying to the press? Do they count?
Summary: I have no idea how to sum this up. ’Twas a request from __dittany . If you can come up with a summary, comment and I may change this.

“This is SUCH a bad idea.” Skandar moaned as his head hit the tiles of the lavatory wall.

Will chuckled and licked his neck again. “It’s ok,” he purred “Robert’s keeping watch for us.”

“The guy who played Cedric?” Skandar asked through gritted teeth. Will’s hands were doing wicked things to him through his trousers and he was finding it increasingly difficult to remember why he couldn’t just give into Will like he always had before.

He reached out to balance himself and the small space was filled with a loud ‘flush’ as his hand connected with the handle on the toilet. He quickly snapped back to his senses and pushed his boyfriend away, looking at the ruffled image in the mirror.

They were straying dangerously close to the point where anyone would be able to guess what they had been up to without any great leaps of intuition or even looking at them that closely. His hair was messed up and his lips were puffy. Neither of these things would normally rouse suspicion, he was Skandar –I’m-wearing-a-shirt-what-more-do-you-want? - Keynes after all, nor was the fact that his suit was rumpled in several slightly unusual places. The fact that William Moseley was in a similar state of disarray however would have the paparazzi snapping away the moment they vacated this not so private hiding place. God but Will looked good in a suit, all broad shoulders and sharp angles.

Will removed his jacket and hung it on a hook by the door of the toilet. Skandar looked at him questioningly and turned to face him. Will smirked and unbuttoned his shirt slowly, hanging this up too. Skandar raked his eyes over Will’s half naked form, golden skin and toned muscles. He felt his cock twitch as his boyfriend smirked at him. Being that good looking should really be illegal. He reached out to stroke the tie that Will had left around his neck. Silk, just like his boyfriend’s skin. He wrapped it twice around his hand and yanked him in for a kiss. He moaned as their cocks brushed together, straining against the material of their trousers. Will’s hands found his buttocks and pulled him even closer, grinding against him. Skandar fisted his free hand in Will’s hair and thrust his tongue into the other’s mouth.

Suddenly he was being spun around and his back collided with the cold tiles of the wall, their lack of heat reaching him even through his now suddenly constricting suit. Will pulled back and Skandar took a moment to consider the absurdity of the situation. Will looked ridiculous. No shirt, no jacket, a very crumpled tie and yet perfect from the waist down with the exception of a very sizable tent in the front of his trousers. Ridiculous and at the same time insanely hot. Skandar couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this turned on.

Will leaned in again, bracing himself on one arm near Skandar’s head. His face millimetres away, Skandar could feel their breath mingling in front of him. There was something very predatory in Will’s eyes and Skandar fought to suppress the shiver that ran up his spine. Will seemed to notice it anyway, he smiled as he reached out and very gently traced one finger up the outline of Skandar’s cock. Skandar bucked and tried to get more contact but Will pulled away again. He moved his hand to Skandar’s chest and started thumbing his nipples into hard little peaks through his shirt, dropping his head to lick at his collarbone. Skandar tried to move his hand to his aching cock, but found it pinned slapped out of the way and pinned to the wall behind him before it reached its destination.

“What are you DOING Will?” He pleaded.

Will’s head popped up to look him in the eye, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “It’s called foreplay Skandy; I thought we might try it sometime.”

Skandar’s head cleared enough for him to roll his eyes. “Yes, fine Will. Not now, not when we’re in a loo in the middle of an awards ceremony.”

Will seemed undeterred; his fingers back to ghosting over his straining flesh. “Yes, well done again on getting Best Actor Skan, very well deserved. Knew you’d get it. Consider this part one of my congratulations.”

Skandar was beyond frustrated. “Congrat- oh for fuck’s sake Will just suck me, fuck me, do SOMETHING!”

Will stepped back again smirking. “Was that so difficult?” Skandar gaped at him incredulously. Will laughed quietly to himself. “Brace yourself against the sink.” Skandar rushed to comply, bending himself over the furniture. In the mirror he could see Will roll his eyes at him and move forward. He was turned round gently ‘till his back was against the sink. Will stroked his cheek gently. “We can’t do it here Skandy, it’s not right.” He said to answer his confusion. “And anyway, I don’t really fancy having to explain to dozens of reporters why one of us has suddenly developed a limp and the other is nearly asleep.”

Skandar snorted, he had to agree. Will turned his head and made him look in the full length mirror on the door.

“Keep looking,” he whispered, “you’re gonna watch this.”

Skandar nodded. In the mirror, a young man with too skinny shoulders and a slightly flushed face did the same. His bronze Adonis sank to his knees and Skandar’s heart rate tripled inside his suit. He felt his zip open and sighed in relief as the pressure on his cock lessened. Still gazing in the mirror, he allowed himself a moment of smugness; he was bigger than he thought. Obviously the angle he usually saw himself at was less than flattering. His eyes fluttered closed as Will’s tongue took a preliminary swipe of his cock. A gentle slap on his thigh reminded him he was supposed to be watching, and he opened his eyes just in time to see his cock disappear down Will’s throat. It was hot and wet in Will’s mouth and he let out a rather loud moan as he sank in to the hilt. Quick as a flash Will’s mouth was off him again and he let out an even louder moan of disappointment.

Will looked worried. “Can you be quiet?” He asked.

Skandar shook his head “Unlikely.”

Will looked thoughtful for a moment. Skandar tapped his foot impatiently, his cock was throbbing and he missed Will’s mouth already. Will stood up and took his tie from round his neck, scrunching it into a ball. “Open up.” He said. Skandar, who was not paying attention, complied and was slightly taken aback when he felt Will insert the bundle of silk. Surprise turned to lust as he looked back in the mirror. The juxtaposition of what looked like a half naked love slave getting back on his knees before his fully dressed yet gagged master was too much for him and he groaned again, curling his hands into fists to fight the urge to shove himself down Will’s throat as forcefully as he could. Will leaned back again with a raised eyebrow. “Oh-kay, I think we need to have a little chat about this new fetish of yours when we get home Skan.” Skandar glared at him in the mirror then let out a (now mercifully muted) scream as Will swallowed him whole again. His hips snapped forward only to be pushed back by a pair of strong hands. His head fell back against the cool tiles and he let the feelings wash over him. Will picked up his pace and started sucking at the head and Skandar whimpered, torn between making it last and coming on the spot. He turned his head again with and locked his eyes with the man in the mirror. He felt his orgasm building in his stomach and with one particularly long suck he came, bucking and screaming into strong hands and a gag.

The fog cleared and he looked down to see Will zipping him back up and wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. He spat out his gag and it fell limply to the floor, soggy and officially ruined. He met Will’s eyes and held it for a moment before they both fell into a fit of childish giggles. He turned on jelly legs and splashed some cold water from the tap on his face in an attempt to get rid of the redness, now very conscious of how long they’d been away. Will seemed to be too as Skandar watched him get dressed quickly in the mirror. They gave each other a quick once over when they were finished, Will slipping the tie into his pocket and left together with a nod of thanks to Rob who was dutifully standing outside and looking rather awkward. This prompted another round of giggles.

“I can’t believe we just did that.” Will laughed.

Skandar just smiled. “Me neither.”

They made it across the room and had just grabbed some champagne before they were spotted by the press. Skandar rolled his eyes and slipped into interview mode, quickly stashing his champagne behind Will, as a reported nearly sprinted towards them to get ahead of the pack. Before he really knew what was happening, there was a microphone in his face, a camera that identified them as being from the BBC and a generic journalist congratulating him on the latest addition to his mother’s mantelpiece. They breezed through the interview, telling the man just what he wanted to hear and he was about to leave when he spotted something.

“Weren’t you wearing a tie earlier Will?” He asked.

Skandar stiffened minutely in panic but Will just shrugged nonchalantly for the camera. “I spilled red wine on it.”

The journalist seemed satisfied and moved on, thanking them for their time. Skandar picked up his champagne again and downed it in one, collecting another from a passing tray in an attempt to calm down. Will chuckled and steered him towards a quieter area of the room. They we’re intercepted by Georgie, Ben and Anna as they moved passed the buffet table.

“Where have you been?” Demanded Georgie. “We’ve been looking for you for ages!”

Again, it was Will that came to the rescue. He put an arm around her. “I’m sorry George,” he said “we just popped out for some air. Skan was getting a little frustrated by the press.”

Skandar nodded mutely as she turned to him. She seemed to accept their story and went back to inspecting the array of cakes on offer. Anna’s pursed lips told them she didn’t believe it for a moment. Neither did Ben apparently, but the look on his face told them that he wasn’t going to ask – he didn’t want to know.

They eventually made it to a quiet corner of the reception and sat down at one of many small tables provided for the more inebriated guests to rest at.

“So,” Skandar started “what in the name of all that is holy was that about? You could at have at least let me get smashed first.”

“No I couldn’t.” Will said. “The moment you cross the line between tipsy and drunk you fall asleep. And anyway it was your idea; I was just crossing it off the list.” Skandar racked his brains but came up empty. Will sighed and produced a folded sheet of paper from the inside pocket of his suit. “25 things that I, Skandar Keynes, want to do before I feel like a grown up. Number 23, get a blowjob at an awards ceremony.” He put the paper down on the table and produced a pen. “You want to do the honours?”

Skandar grinned as he crossed it out. He handed the paper back to Will and kissed him gently. “Thanks.”

Will laughed. “Don’t thank me yet, I’ve got another 24 to work out first.”

Skandar laughed too. “I look forward to it.”

FIN

Please Comment.

IN THE LIBRARY

Thu, 19 Feb 2009 02:04:56 GMT

Title: In the Library
Pairing: Peter/Caspian
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Smutfluff (it’s porn for intellectuals)
Word Count: 1579
Disclaimer: Not mine, no money made.
Summary: Caspian thinks Peter needs to take a break. Set in the movieverse

Peter rubbed his temples and tried to will the charts into making sense. Every map he’d seen of Narnia was wrong, or wrong to his recollection at any rate. He kept reminding himself that the layout of a land could change a lot in 1300 years, but it still seemed odd to be staring at a picture of his country that didn’t have a star marked Cair Paravel.

There was an amused cough from the door. “Anything of interest?”

Peter’s breath caught in his throat as he looked up. Though Caspian himself refused to believe it he was earth-shatteringly beautiful. Especially now he’d had a chance to wash his hair and eat a few good meals; the fawns had many talents but cooking was not among them. He snapped himself out of his reverie and looked down again, shuffling the papers embarrassedly. “Erm, no. I mean yes, very – very interesting.” Caspian, there was no other word for it, sauntered over to him with a smile. Peter swallowed the lump in his throat nervously.

“You work too hard my love,” the dark haired prince pressed himself up against the king “one of these days you will work yourself to death. You should take a break.” He breathed in his ear.

Peter shuddered. “I’m a King Caspian, Kings don’t get to take breaks.”

Caspian stepped back a moment and looked him in the eye. “I was serious my love, you’ll burn out.”

Peter sighed. “So was I. These people need a King.”

Caspian looked annoyed and turned on his heel to walk away. Peter was about to call after him, afraid he’d started another fight, but Caspian merely closed the door to the library and walked gracefully back to him. His hands moved up to Peter’s head and removed his crown, setting it gently on the desk behind them. “Not a King anymore,” he said softly “just a man.” The blonde King nodded and the dark Prince smiled again, bringing their lips together in a kiss. Peter moaned and moved his hands up to fist in the other’s hair. His lover gasped and pulled their bodies together, their tongues colliding. They battled briefly for dominance, battling first in one mouth and then the other, all the while grasping and clutching at each other’s bodies.

Caspian’s hands moved to Peter’s tunic, trying to lift it over his head. The King broke the kiss and stepped back, looking around wildly. “What are you doing?” He hissed.

Caspian moved forward again to kiss him. “We’re taking a break.”

Peter put a hand on his chest to stop him. “Are you out of your mind? We’re in the library of all places Caspian, anyone could walk in.”

Caspian shrugged. “You worry too much my King.” He drawled. Peter felt his trousers become too tight. “I do not care if they find us. There is no one left in court that does not already know. And if they do walk in, then that is their fault. A King may do what he pleases in his own castle.” Caspian grinned evilly. “Or maybe,” he ran a finger up Peter’s cock, causing him to shiver in delight (Damn how his body betrayed him) “maybe his majesty fears his performance would be insufficient as to merit a public viewing.” Peter growled darkly at him but Caspian took no heed, cupping his lover and squeezing him gently through the fabric. Peter’s hands balled into fists but he didn’t move, this was fast becoming a matter of pride. “I dare you.” Caspian said. “I bet you won’t.”

Something inside of Peter snapped. Maybe Caspian was right, maybe he did need a break. Whether that was true or not was of little consequence though, now he was being driven by his hormones and they cared little for the underlying motivation. He grabbed Caspian by the arms and threw him roughly onto the desk. He gave an undignified shout as he landed which Peter muffled by smashing their mouths together in a kiss.

It wasn’t gentle this time, tongues against tongues, teeth against teeth. Peter moved his mouth to Caspian’s neck, sucking in a way that would almost certainly leave a mark while his hands busied themselves with the lacings on his lover’s trousers. He pulled them open and shoved his hand inside, forcing a guttural moan from the man beneath him as his digits closed around engorged flesh. He ignored his own cock throbbing away against the material that was holding it too tightly and focussed on using his free hand to pull the trousers off his legs to give his now slowly pumping hand more room. Peter moved back to admire his handiwork and Caspian groaned at the loss of contact. He tapped his leg. “Up.” He commanded. Caspian propped himself up on an elbow and dutifully raised his leg, looking confused. Peter removed a boot and eased off one leg of the trousers, leaving the garment hanging from the other knee. He moved back between the Prince’s legs and pressed their mouths together again, fisting his lover’s cock in earnest now. “It’s a pity,” he breathed between moans, “that we don’t have any oil with us. We could really take a break then.” He stood startled as Caspian shoved him off and sat up on the furniture.

He stilled his hand and Caspian looked panicked. “Keep going.” He croaked. Peter started up again at a more languid pace, moving his other hand to his trousers to free his aching cock. He sighed as it came free and pumped his hands in time, sighing at the feeling of relief. Caspian meanwhile was thumping on apparently random bits of the desk, growing more and more frustrated by the moment. “It should be somewhere around – aha, here we are.”

Peter looked down in surprise as a drawer popped open by his hip containing what was unmistakably a flash of oil. He picked it up. “You keep oil in a secret drawer in my desk?” He asked incredulously.

Caspian shrugged. “I keep oil everywhere we could be together. You never thought it was convenient how some always showed up?”

Peter shook his head and gave up trying to understand. He brushed his lips against his lover’s. “Thank you.” He said. He pushed a grinning Caspian back down to the desk and coated two fingers before bringing them to his hole. He pushed them in with little resistance, Caspian was still loose from that morning’s exertions, and crooked them up to ghost over his sweet spot. Caspian’s hips flew off the desk and Peter held them down with his free arm as he repeated the motion. He added a third finger and Caspian’s head fell back as he made little squeaking sounds of pleasure. Peter felt a jolt in his groin, he loved those sounds. He pumped his fingers torturously slowly, pinning Caspian’s hips every time he tried to move to get more friction. The power was heady and Peter drew on every scrap of patience he had to make it last. Eventually Caspian’s hand came to his wrist and he stilled his motions, looking into the black eyes that greeted him.

“Please.” He whispered.

Peter nodded and removed his fingers, smiling at the gasp it elicited. He pushed his trousers down just far enough to give himself ready access and hurriedly slicked up his cock, hissing as the cold oil touched it. Offering up a prayer to anyone who might be listening that the Telmarines built sturdy furniture, he positioned himself at his lover’s entrance and slowly pushed his way in. Once fully seated he pulled back almost all the way and slammed back in again. Caspian let out a howl of pleasure and he grinned ferally and sped up.

Instantly, he knew he’d made a mistake. His clothes we’re far too heavy for this and he was rapidly overheating. His hair clung to his face with sweat and one look at the Prince told him he was in a similar predicament. Neither though could find the will to stop and rectify the situation as despite their morning antics was hot and tight and Peter was ploughing into him hard and fast, hitting his prostate with every thrust. Caspian’s hand moved from gripping the edge of the table to his cock, stroking furiously. Watching the dark haired man touch himself sent Peter spiralling towards oblivion as it always did. He was balanced on the edge when the door opened and Edmund walked in.

“Peter did you find those maps in the end –” Edmund stood frozen in shock, his eyes wide at the scene laid out before him. Peter opened his mouth to say something, he didn’t know what, when Caspian suddenly came. The passage around his cock became unbearably tight and Peter followed suit with a moan, coming hard and collapsing onto the man in front of him. Edmund seemed to snap back to reality, turning an unpleasant shade of red and all but running from the room with a mumbled apology.

Peter sighed and rested their foreheads together. “I knew that was a bad idea.” Caspian nodded solemnly. He pulled out and helped him to his feet, giving him a brief hug before redressing. He put his crown back on.

“So I guess we won’t be doing that again.” Caspian said resignedly.

Peter looked shocked. “Of course we will.” He said. “We just need to get a bolt on the door first…”

THE END
Please Comment

NOTES

Mon, 16 Feb 2009 14:42:08 GMT

Title: Notes
Pairing: references to Peter/Edmund/Caspian
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Humorous Fluff
Word Count: 361 – just a short little bit of silliness
Summary: On board the Dawn Treader. The boys pass notes while Lucy sleeps.

And just WHY exactly do we need to write notes rather than talk King Edmund? Your sister is fast asleep – there’s no way she could hear us.

GOD, I wish that were true.

Sigh, she has a sixth sense for gossip. If there’s any reason she should be awake – to go to school and the like – she’ll be impossible to rouse. The moment we start talking about Peter or Susan on the other hand she’ll be up and out of bed in a shot.

On which subject, how is your brother?

Fine, he’s off to study medicine soon. He sends his love.

Give him mine.

Oh I will. Any particular way you’d like me to give it to him?

YOUR MADJESTY! Anyone would think you really we’re 15.

The light’s too dim in here, I can’t see whether you’re angry or amused.

Amused.

Oh good. Back to my point. Any particular way?

Not really, just as long as he gets the point.

Is that a euphemism King Caspian? (raises eyebrow)

It might be. Have we really got to the stage of putting stage directions on a note?

Apparently so. Sadly, if I know my sister any more light will almost certainly wake her.

Damn. And what of your cousin?

Oh I don’t care if he wakes up in a lifeboat a thousand miles from here so long as I don’t have to hear him whining when he returns.

You shouldn’t say things like that – I fear the men are tempted…

(shrugs)

Do you remember the night we met?

(shudders with horror) How could I forget? Tree bark leaves on hell of a scratch…

Was that a GIGGLE Caspian?

Of course not. Kings don’t giggle.

Right, just like they don’t still sleep in their lovers old shirts when they’re 20.

Oh it’s no good gasping and spluttering Caspian, Lucy and I found them the moment we got in here. I can see Peter’s fitting you but I would have thought mine would be a bit snug…

OUCH! That was uncalled for, you’ll pay for that.

If you say so my King. I’m afraid though that you’ll have to catch me first!

THE END

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I'M HOME

Thu, 05 Feb 2009 20:45:56 GMT

Title: I’m Home
Pairing: William Moseley/ Skandar Keynes
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Smuff (the genre formally known as smutfluff)
Word Count: 2929
Warnings: RPS, slash, bit of swearing.
Disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. I do not insinuate in any way shape or form that this has or will happen. I do not know the actors and apologise if they take offense. I make no money from this; I do it purely for fun.
Summary: Written in celebration of the snow that’s currently besieging England, Will visits Skandar at school.

William Moseley’s Jaguar pulled up outside the Private 6^th Form College in North London carrying a very nervous owner. He hated these places, they reminded him of his own (now happily over) school days where everything revolved around sports teams and parties and other things he wasn’t very good at like girls and communal showers; just the thought of it made him shiver. He hated that world. Now SKANDAR on the other hand, he loved that world. Mr Skandar Keynes, great at everything he did, was probably going to be the first person in the history of Hollywood to be an acting superstar and go through med school at the same time.

He ran his hands over the steering wheel and sighed; he’d probably better get out and face the music, Skandar’s lunch didn’t last forever. He pulled his coat closer to himself as he trudged across the snow. He might have done well to tell Skandar that filming on Iornclad had finished a day early, he supposed, but where was the fun in that? Surprises were a lot more to Skandar’s tastes, he reassured himself. He was tempted to pull his scarf up over his nose and ears against the cold as he moved from the relative shelter of the car park to the main body of the school, but he’d rather not be laughed at even before he’d seen his boyfriend. Then again, if he caught a cold Skandar would probably laugh at him anyway for letting his vanity get in the way of his health.

He was snapped from his musings by turning left into the main courtyard and instantly finding himself in the crossfire of an impromptu snowball fight. He dodged round the pair of shouting boys and continued on his course. Halfway across the space he spotted him. Sitting on a low wall and in dire need of a haircut was one utterly delectable Mr Keynes. His heart sped up but he forced himself to keep a steady pace. Falling over on ice at this stage in the proceedings would do nothing to make him look cool. Only a couple of paces nearer, still wide out in the middle of the quad, the dark haired boy looked up still laughing at something a friend had said and spotted him. Will wished he had his camera with him to capture the look of shock.

Skandar jumped down from the wall and ran towards him but skidded to a halt a foot away with a pained and undecided look on his face. His expression changed to apologetic before settling on the politically correct greeting of a ‘man hug’. Will rolled his eyes (it wasn’t like there was anyone in this school that didn’t know they were together) and forced himself to remember that his beloved was four years younger than himself. He grabbed Skandar’s blazer by the lapels and brought his mouth down for a kiss. Skandar froze momentarily then relaxed into it, wrapping his arms around Will’s neck and licking across his bottom lip with his tongue.

They broke apart to wolf whistles and shouts of “Get a room” from somewhere on the wall Skandar had just left. His boyfriend didn’t even look, just waved ‘the finger’ in that general direction before William found himself being gripped firmly by the arm and dragged off to a more secluded corner of the courtyard. Once there, he was shoved roughly up against the wall and Skandar’s lips were on his own again. Needier this time and he could feel what he really hoped wasn’t a mobile poking into his hip. He put his hands on Skandar’s waist, pulling him flush against himself and broke the kiss in favour of attacking the pale expanse of neck laid out before him. Skandar moaned and Will let go grinning.

“Hey Skandy.”

Skandar grinned back. “Hey.” He said simply and nuzzled Will’s neck.

“You miss me?”

“Uh-huh.” Skandar went stiff and pushed away before colliding his hand with the side of Will’s head. “You bastard,” he said “you didn’t tell me you were coming in today! Last I knew you weren’t gonna be home for another week!”

Shit, Will thought, really should have told him. He pulled Skandar close again, encouraged when his arms took up their usual place around his middle. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled “I wanted to surprise you. I thought it would make you happy.”

Skandar pulled back again, smiling this time. Will knew that smile; it meant that Skandy was plotting something. “How sorry?” He asked.

Will took both his hands and looked him straight in the eye looking very sincere and trying to keep a straight face. “Very, very, very sorry.” He said.

Skandar seemed to think on this a moment. “Sorry enough to bust me out of here?” He asked.

Will’s face dropped into seriousness. “Skandar…” he warned.

“Oh come on Will, it’s only history. I’m miles ahead of everyone and anyway, we’re only watching a film.” Will looked unmoved. “Will, look around you. It’s snowing. No one’s doing work today, even the teachers. This time tomorrow there won’t even BE anyone here, they’ll have called a snow day.” Will pursed his lips together. He was fighting a losing battle and he knew it. Unfortunately, Skandar seemed to know it too. He dropped his voice to a husky tone he knew always sent shivers down Will’s spine. “And just think, I’ve got the house to myself today. And when they call a snow day tomorrow, your house’ll be empty. And it’s been months Will,” he moved his hand to the inevitable bulge in Will’s trousers, squeezing him gently through the fabric “months since anyone but me touched my cock. Months” he breathed in Will’s ear, hot and needy “since there’s been anything but a finger up my arse. Can you imagine that Will? How tight I am?”

Will weighed up his options. On the one hand, he had what was right. Send Skandar off to class, wait an hour for him in his car and then drive him home in the rush hour. On the other hand, his cock was throbbing fit to burst and his so-sexy-he-should-come-with-a-health-warning boyfriend had just propositioned him in a (admittedly quiet) corner of the school courtyard. He shook the blonde hair from his eyes and sighed. “Just a film?” He asked.

Skandar looked triumphant. “Just a film.” He promised, taking Will’s hand.

They we’re nearly out of the courtyard before they were spotted. “Oi, Skandar” came the call from behind them “you off?”

Skandar turned, walking backwards towards the car park. “I’ve got tonsillitis,” he yelled “I’ve completely lost my voice!” The boy smiled and nodded and Skandar turned back to walk away, slipping on the ice.

Will caught him before he hit the ground and righted him to the sound of laughter. He tried to hide his amusement. “Are you okay?” He asked. Skandar nodded. “Good.”

They entered the car park to the dying echoes of “Will and Skandar sittin’ in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.”

Will shook his head smiling “Remind me how old they are again?” and held the car door open for Skandar to slide into. A bell went off in the distance as he started the car and moved off slowly.

Skandar made a noise of protest and disappointment beside him. “Wiiiiill…” he said pleadingly.

He stopped the car again, eyeing up the roads. They looked well gritted, no snow or ice on them at all. He sighed, sometimes he could swear Skandy stopped maturing at eight. He revved the engine and gave a wheelspin start, desperately trying not to think of what this must be doing to his tyres. Skandar was thrown back in his seat whooping with joy as they rounded the corner to pass the history block. One floor up the windows opened and a handful of boys Will recognised as Skandar’s friends stuck their head out cheering. He slowed down as he joined the main road and changed up a gear to give his poor car a break. As he stopped at the lights a thought hit him. “You know,” he said “for a class that’s only watching a film there were an awful lot of lights on in that room.”

Skandar shrugged and grinned widely. “Call it poetic licence.” He leaned across squeezing Will’s thigh and kissing him on the cheek. “Welcome home Will.”

*****************

Will’s eyebrows raised in horror as he entered Skandar’s room. Disorder he’d been prepared for, that was what Skandar’s room looked like at the best of times. Two feet thick of clothes and crisp packets and God only knows what else he had not anticipated.

“Ah.” Skandar said from behind him. “I didn’t know you were coming you see, I would have tidied if you’d warned me.”

Will picked his way carefully over what might have been a stack of textbooks in a previous life and sat down on the bed, flopping onto his back. He blinked once, twice and then groaned as he realised he wasn’t seeing things. “Skandar,” He asked weakly, “why is there a poster of me on the ceiling?”

Skandar flushed bright red and moved from his position against the door frame to straddle Will on the bed. “Ignore it.” Will snorted, glancing up at the image of himself again. Skandar grabbed his jaw, forcing him to look him in the eyes. “Please.”

He sighed and nodded and Skandar relaxed on top of him before giving a yelp of surprise as Will grabbed his hips and rolled them over so that Skandar was pinned to the mattress by his weight. He pinned the boys wrists to the pillow with his hands and assaulted his neck with his mouth, licking and nipping in a way that had never failed to make Skandar moan and write like a wanton whore. He ground his cock into Skandar’s drawing a whimper for his efforts. His eyes rolled back into his head and he had to force himself not to come on the spot. Skandar was making all those little noises he only made when he was really close to coming and suddenly it was far too hot for him. He pulled back a moment to wrestle with his t-shirt (why had he thought skin tight would be a good idea?) and by the time he had it over his head and thrown it somewhere near the floor Skandar had managed to get himself topless too and now had a hand down his undone trousers stroking himself through the fabric of his boxers. Will stared, fascinated, by the tiny wet patch developing on the front of the cloth and swallowed down the lump in his throat as he reached for his belt. He looked back up at Skandar’s face and wanted to cry. He was home. Finally, he was home and his angel was just as beautiful as when he left. And he still loved him, his angel still loved him. He bit back the tears. Crying and making love at the same time were a very bad mix as he remembered them.

Skandar pushed his lips together and he bent down for a kiss. Their lips melded together, gently at first and then more and more fiercely until his fingers were fisted in the Skandar’s hair and he could feel the swear trickling down his neck. He jumped as warm fingers wrapped around his cock and squeezed him firmly through his trousers. He pulled back again, swinging his legs off the bed and divesting himself of clothing as quickly as possible. He heard a drawer open behind him and turned back to see his boyfriend with his head stuck at an awkward angle in the bedside table. He smiled, elegant and graceful were not words that would normally be applied to Skandar Keynes. He was capable of it when it suited him, but he seemed to prefer to live in a delicately balanced state of ordered chaos. He took advantage of his momentary distraction to rid his lover of his school trousers and undergarments sliding them down over long lean legs and throwing them over his shoulder. He crawled back up the body laid out before him till he got to the glistening cock. He checked that Skandar was still otherwise occupied and gave it a quick swipe with his tongue from base to tip. Skandar jerked, hit his head on the bedside table and sat up glowering at him with a tube in his hand. Will laughed and kissed him again on the lips before removing the lubricant from his tightened fist. Skandar huffed but lay down against the pillows spreading his legs.

Will spread some gel on his shaking fingers and rubbed them together, trying to warm it up a bit. Even still, Skandar jerked and hissed as it first hit his hole and Will rubbed his hip in soothing circles and kissed the hand that gripped his shoulder tightly as he pushed his fingers in. Skandar hadn’t been joking, he was tight. Will’s heart jumped and he couldn’t wait to be inside him. He hooked his fingers up and brushed them against the spot he knew would make his boyfriend see stars. He grinned at the “Fuck!” that came from somewhere above him and pinned the flying hips down with his free arm as he continued his torture, adding a third finger and spreading them gently. He licked the sweat gathering on the other’s belly and ignored the way his own cock was fit to burst. The hand on his shoulder moved to his hair and he looked up at Skandar to see him mouth “Please.”

Will nodded, not trusting himself to speak and moved up onto his knees. He coated himself quickly, gasping at the cold and glaring at the quiet chuckle from the pillow. He put himself at Skandar’s hole and pushed in slowly. Good GOD but Skandar was tight. And hot. And slick. And Will really couldn’t remember him being any tighter than this since they first made love. Then again, he would muse later, they probably hadn’t gone this long without making love since the first time either. He stilled a moment, fully seated, wanting to give Skandar a moment to get used to him again and give himself a moment to stop himself from coming on the spot. Skandar though, seemed to have other plans. He wrapped his legs around Will’s waist and rocked his hips and clamped down on his cock with his arse and then they were just a mess of lips and limbs and thrusting. In and out and in and out. Somewhere through the mist that was covering his eyes he changed the angle of his thrusts and Skandar held him tighter letting out a howl of pleasure. Will could see the end was nigh as he sped up to a near frantic pace, balancing on one hand as he brought the other one down to Skandar’s pulsing cock. One, two strokes were all it took before the boy came with a shudder and a gasp and his arse became impossibly close around Will’s cock. Seconds later the world turned white and he panted his own release.

They lay entangled for a few minutes getting their breath back before Will pulled out gently, though not gently enough to stop a whimper from his love, and settled down on the bed pulling Skandar close to hug him and playing with his hair – the clean up could wait. “I missed you.” He choked out and then the tears came. He pulled Skandy even closer and whispered words of his devotion, of how much it had cost him just to stay on set and not to fly back to England whenever they spoke on the phone, how many nights he’d stayed up worrying that someone else would take his place and then how many mornings he’d spent hating himself for entertaining the thought. Skandar listened patiently with his ear to Will’s heart, his own tears quietly pooling on his lover’s chest. Eventually it stopped and they sat in silence for a few minutes before Skandar blew his nose and moved to sit cross legged in front of Will, holding his hands. He smiled brightly.

“So apart from all of that, how was it?” He asked.

Will’s mood lifted instantly. “Oh it was brilliant.” He said. “Fantastic cast, fantastic crew, the critics are lining us up for best film at the Oscars. I’m going up in the world young man.”

Skandar rolled his eyes and patted him on the head. “Of course you are dear. Just know where you came from.”

Will glanced up at the ceiling with a smirk. “Hmmm… yes… on which note, why am I directly above your pillow Skan?”

Skandar’s ears flushed red again. “Can we just forget about that please? If you’d come home when you’d said you would you’d never have to know. And anyway,” he continued “we have maple syrup downstairs. We used to have a better use for that than pancakes…” he trailed off suggestively.

Will’s eyes bulged out of his head. “Again? You want to go again already?” Skandar raised his eyebrows and made hand movements that made it clear he wanted a decision to be made. Will nodded weakly and watched as Skandar jumped perfectly off the bed onto the only free patch of carpet in the room and skipped out the door. He flopped back on the pillows and looked up at himself with a smile. “I’m home.”

Fin.

Comments make me write more… :D

The four times Arthur didn’t say ‘I love you’ and the one time he did.

Mon, 10 Nov 2008 21:52:08 GMT

Title: The four times Arthur didn’t say ‘I love you’ and the one time he did.
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Angst, Romance
Word Count: 927
Warnings: boy love
Summary: First time writing this pairing so please let me know what you think. If it’s any good then I might try for something NC-17 in the future.
Disclaimer: Merlin and Arthur are property of the BBC. I am not the BBC. I am not in any way insinuating that this ever happened/ will happen, although it would most certainly boost the ratings if it did.

1. There was a perfect moment to say it, just after he’d come when they were basking in the afterglow of sex. It was beautiful, it was right and he would say it. It would be immaculate. But Merlin (the swine) beat him to it and Arthur was left feeling so put out by having been piped to the post by a SERVANT no less that he just rolled over and climbed out of bed. Merlin had sighed dejectedly and Arthur had been tempted to get back in and apologise, but that would have been admitting that he was wrong and that was unfamiliar territory and it scared him. And so when Merlin pulled his clothes back on and left a moment later he sat on his bed and cried but he didn’t go after him, no matter how much he wanted to.

2. Morgana had called him a coward when he told her about it the next day and he had to admit that she had a point. Of course, he didn’t tell her that to her face, he blew her off and told her she didn’t know what she was talking about. And so he ruined his next chance to say it too, when Merlin had walked in to deliver some clothes and Morgana had called out as he was leaving ‘Arthur’s madly in love with you by the way’. He’d denied it fervently. So fervently in fact that Merlin ran from the room. Another night crying on the end of his bed.

3. Merlin didn’t come to see him that night, or any other night for a week. He saw less and less of his servant during the day too. Honestly, there were only so many times one could restock a physician’s herb cupboard. Morgana barely spoke to him now, she was holed up in her rooms with her maid and Merlin whenever she wasn’t at meals and Arthur’s mood took nosedive after nosedive. Even his father began to notice. And so his third chance came and went too. The first time Merlin had entered his chambers for days he had snapped at him without even looking round. He hadn’t known who it was until Morgana came in twenty minutes later shrieking at him.

4. The last one had been the final straw for Arthur. He’d had enough of crying and willing Merlin to give him a second chance and so he followed him when he went out collecting herbs that night, determined that he wouldn’t come back to the castle till it was said. Merlin stopped in a small clearing not too far from Camelot and set about his work. He was about to make his presence known when he heard strange sounds coming from his servant (friend? Lover?) Something that sounded so odd but so familiar, like a language lost in time. And then the plants started rising of their own accord and a magnificent blue light filled the clearing and Arthur was filled with a kind of sick dread. He ran back to Camelot, into his rooms and flung himself onto the bed. All this time he’d trusted Merlin and all this time there’d been a magician under his nose. This threw the whole trust between them away for starters. Surely, after all they’d done together, Merlin should have told him?

His loyalties were torn. On the one hand, he’d never had the same problem with magic as his father had. Gaius had influenced him enough that he saw it more as a tool than a weapon, but at the same time it was the law of the land that magic was forbidden and he didn’t like to think what were to happen if his father discovered he had concealed this from him. Then again, he didn’t like the thought of what would happen to Merlin if he DID tell someone. The thought of Merlin kneeling before the executioner went straight to his stomach and he ran for a window to be sick from. Back on his bed he curled up and fell asleep still thinking about what to do.

The one time he did…

Luckily, fate chose for him. The royal party was ambushed on the next day’s hunt and Merlin took a poisoned arrow for him from an enemy archer. Forget what anyone said about it being a servant’s duty to protect their master, this went deeper than that.

According to Gaius, the worst of the illness was over now. The fever had broken, Merlin would live. Arthur had wept at that and the physician had been gracious enough to leave him alone with the sleeping body of his lover.

When he woke up, he was still in the chair beside Merlin’s bed but the moon was higher, a pale light drifting through the window making the skin glow. His breathing seemed to be more regular now, as though he was merely sleeping rather than battling for his life. With a reluctant sigh he stood and stretched, it would not do for him to be away from his rooms all night. Halfway to the door he said it. Those three magic words that had been giving him hell for over a week. He felt the relief instantly. He’d said it. Merlin was asleep; there was no way he could have heard. Nothing would change, they could just go back to the way it was before.

In the pale moonlight before he left the room, he never saw an eyelid flicker open or a small grin spread across a face.

FIN

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The Five Times William Moseley didn’t say ‘I Love You’ and the One Time he did.

Mon, 10 Nov 2008 20:49:32 GMT

Title: The Five Times William Moseley didn’t say ‘I Love You’ and the One Time he did.
Pairing: Will/Skandar, Will/OC
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Fluff, minor angst, introspective
Word Count: 858
Warnings: boy kissies
Summary: as the title suggests people. P.S. the first bit I’ve written for a while so be nice!

1. Jasmine

In his defence, he thought, he’d been 10. Girls had cooties. He could not have been seen to be in love with one, let alone about to tell her all about it. But oh, she had been pretty. White skin, black hair, infectious laugh. A lot of people said she was skinny. She wasn’t, he knew that. She was athletic, stringy. The sort of person people underestimate all the time because they’re deceptively strong.

Anyway, no one would have ever found out if it wasn’t for Tommy. Tommy James who he had confided in and then had run around the playground screaming ‘Will loves Jasmine’ at the top of his voice. And then she’d asked him and he’d wanted to tell her, he really had, but he’d been too scared. And that pretty much set the tone for the rest of his childhood.

2. Jessica

This time he was 14 and they’d been together 6 months. He really should have been able to say it. But that would have meant having to then do more with her. He would have had to touch her and to be perfectly honest he didn’t like girls’ bodies. All their squishy lumpy bits that they insisted you were touching when you really really weren’t. He didn’t like the idea of that at all. So he broke her heart and moved onto the next pretty girl and did the same again and before very long he had a Casanova ‘love ‘em and leave ‘em’ reputation that he could really have done without and he had mindless bimbo after mindless bimbo chasing after him. Girls…

3. Elizabeth

It had been on the set of Prince Caspian. She was gorgeous, he’d been seeing her for months, they shared a bond. It shouldn’t have been difficult. But then out of the corner of his eye he’d seen Skandar and everything had changed instantly. The scrawny little runt of the last film (who he’d teased mercilessly night and day for looking like a 9 year old) had blossomed into a beautiful young man and Will knew in that moment that nothing would ever be the same again. He turned back to Elizabeth and the words just died in his throat. He couldn’t say them now, because now it would be a lie.

4. Skandar

It was later the same month that Skandar cornered him. He demanded to know why Will had been ignoring him for the last few weeks, weren’t they friends? Will was sorely tempted to tell him. He got as far as ‘I…’ and then remembered that Skandar was 14 and there was a 5 year age difference between the two of them. And so he made up some crap about not having slept very well and having girl trouble and changed the subject to sport. Skandar seemed to buy it and Will breathed a sigh of relief, before crying himself to sleep at night. Ben had walloped him over the head for being a coward but had to concede that it wasn’t really worth being put on a list if anyone found out. Maybe he should wait a while.

5. Random fans at every premiere he’s every been to

At first it was flattering, then it was annoying, now he just blanks it out and keeps smiling. He loves each and every one of them, he really does. They’re giving him a great life and he doesn’t forget that even for a minute. But at the same time, monotony takes its toll and he really doesn’t have to want to think about the consequences if he starts saying ‘I love you’ back.

So now when a fangirl with a pretty scarf screams it in his ear he just smiles and reaches for he autograph book then turns around so she can take her picture with him and doesn’t complain. It’s easier this way.

And the one time he did…

Skandar

He plucked up the courage one night on the publicity trail. Maybe that statement is misleading, Anna had told him that if he didn’t do it soon she was going to leak it to the Daily Mail and let them rip him to shreds she was so tired of listening to him whinge. He went to Ben for sympathy who then said ‘good idea’ and offered to let the Sun know while he was at it.

So he’d cornered Skandar in their hotel room and braced himself for the impact of a fist against his jaw when the truth came out. Instead, warm lips had crushed against his own and he’d found himself flung against the bed with a very excited teenager on top of him trying to undo his shirt.

And no, it hadn’t been perfect. He had a cold so it had come out much more like ‘I lobe you’ and there was still the matter of the age gap (Skan was now 16 while he himself was 20) but he’d said it and Skan had said it back and now they were cuddling in his bed, waiting to go to sleep together and that was really all that mattered.

FIN
Please Comment.

WHY BEN AND WILL ARE NOT COSTUME'S BEST FRIENDS RIGHT NOW...

Mon, 13 Oct 2008 21:08:22 GMT

Title: Why Ben and Will are not costume’s best friends right now…
Pairing: William Moseley/ Ben Barnes, Skandar Keynes/ Anna Popplewell (implied)
Rating: MA-15
Genre: Humour, RPS
Summary: Just a silly little epilogue to the 5things/4things series that's been bouncing around my brain for a while. It’s amazing the banter you can get on a communal piece of paper between takes.
5 things: http://community.livejournal.com/narnia_slash/269757.html#cutid1
4 things: http://community.livejournal.com/narnia_slash/270743.html#cutid1

Guys, I said that you could borrow the costumes if you didn’t get them dirty. That includes dried on spunk stains on the underside of Ben’s collar.

Dried on stains under the collar? God Ben, how hard did you shoot??

Hey, however hard I shot it was most definitely YOUR fault! ;)

Grins

Oh, and the stains on Will’s trousers are also proving stubborn gentlemen.

Stains on your trousers Will? Tut tut.

Shut it Barnes.

WOAH what were you two doing in costume to get those kind of stains?

Skandar? What the hell are you doing on this bit of the set? You’re not filming here.

Ben borrowed my PSP. I’m looking for it.

On the table, under the script.

Thanks. J

O.M.G. Skandar just told me that you two had sex in costume. Did you really?

No Georgie, we didn’t. we just borrowed them to go to a fancy dress party.

You LIED to her?

She’s 12.

He’s got a point Anna.

Yeah. Deffo.

YOU were the one that told her in the first place. Hang on, we’re running out of paper. I’m going to get some more.

Good idea.

Here we are.

Why is it that whenever anyone leaves me a note everyone turns it into a group essay?

You’re just as guilty as we are Will.

Humph. How did you find out anyway Skan?

Props told me. They’re remarkably easy to bribe.

Oh god, they know about the swordfight.

What swordfight?

Bollocks.

Ben lost.

I really hope “swordfight” wasn’t a euphemism.

It wasn’t. well, not at first.

WILL!

Good one. (Virtual high five)

Um Will, Ben told me yesterday that you guys just stayed at home last weekend. How come he didn’t tell me about the party?

He probably just felt bad that he didn’t pick you up on his way through. He knows how much you like dressing up (someone start a new sheet).

Yeah, sorry darling.

Sniff, I’ll forgive you. But only if you buy me an ice-cream.

Done.

:D Bye!

Well done Anna, that was VERY convincing.

Oh shut up. I can’t believe you lot have got me lying to her too. I’m off.

Sigh, I should buy Georgie that ice-cream. I’m off too. But I DEMAND a rematch.

As you wish Prince Caspian.

KING

King. So Skandar, just me and thee now?

Nope, it’s given me an idea. I’ve got to persuade Anna to wear her battle gear for me!

What have we started?

Hello, us again, just to let you all know that we’ll probably GIVE you all your costumes at the end of the shoot just to save us from having to wash them. Also, if you guys haven’t moved this in 20 mins or voiced your discontent, we’re taking it to be used in evidence. Ciao! xx

Hey, where did all the paper go?

FIN

Please Comment!

Why Ben Barnes's mobile is always being left on set.

Tue, 02 Sep 2008 18:01:01 GMT

Title: Why Ben Barnes’s mobile is always being left on set.
Pairing: William Moseley/ Skandar Keynes, Ben Barnes/ his hand
Rating: NC-17
Genre: PWP, S.M.U.T. – you read it, I’M BACK!
Warnings: RPS, Voyeurism
Disclaimer: I am in no way insinuating that this ever happened.Summary: How Ben leaving his phone on set lead to him watching Will and Skandar’s ‘private time’. Requested by chippyofyonder. Special thanks to amaya425 for helping me through my smutblock.

Ben frowned deeply as he moved through the halls of the set. How exactly did he manage to leave his phone in hair and makeup? He must have answered Anna’s text, put it on the table and walked out the door without it. It didn’t really make any sense but he was quite tired, he could have done it.

He walked through a set of double doors, the room he needed was second on the left. As he walked passed the first door, he noticed that it was slightly ajar. He moved to close it again and he caught a glimpse of the scene inside.

Will and Skandar stood in the centre, deep in conversation. Skandar had his arm around the Will (or should he say Peter? For some unknown reason they were both in full Pevensie gear) and seemed to be trying to convince him of something. Curiosity got the better of him and he inched closer, trying to hear what was being said. Frustratingly, they were standing just far enough away that he would need to enter the room to hear them properly and something told him that that wouldn’t be a very good idea. He could make out the tone of their voices though. Skandar’s was light and playful, definitely egging Will on to do something and Will (Mr Sensible) seemed to be persuading him that whatever it was was a very bad idea.

Skandar leaned forward and whispered something in Will’s ear with a positively sultry look on his face and Will snapped. He span around and smashed his lips into Skandar’s, fisting his hands in his hair and pushing their bodies together. Skandar responded, grabbing Will/ Peter’s biceps and grinding his groin into the other’s hip.

Ben gasped and blushed. He should go, he really should, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight in front of him. For all his brain was telling him that this was private, for them only, it was being drowned out by the noise of the rest of him saying that it was HOT. He leaned against the wall and tried to find a position where they wouldn’t be able to see him, ignoring the part of him screaming to get his phone and leave them to it, and the part that insisted that Skandar was only sixteen, and the part that said that they were playing brothers.

Skandar’s mouth broke free of Will’s and he attached it to his neck. Will moaned and tipped his head back to give him better access, but snapped it up again when Skandar’s hand undid his trousers and closed around his cock. Their eyes met as the hand pumped him unhurriedly. From his position outside the door Ben could only see Will’s eyes burning with desire, but he could imagine Skandar’s were the same. Skandar stood on tip toes to breathe something into Will’s ear. A dangerous grin spread across his face and he nodded before spinning Skandar round and pushing him over a nearby table. Skandar’s head turned round to grin at Will, his ridiculous school cap at a strange angle. Ben held his breath; if Edmund (Skandar he reminded himself, oh what the fuck, they were obviously in costume) looked a nanometre to his right he would be spotted. Peter pulled Edmund’s trousers roughly to the ground leaving his legs bare and his arse covered only by the flaps of his blazer and pulled a small tube from his pocket.

Ben bit his lip, he really needed to go; this wasn’t just kissing anymore. He didn’t move. He breathed heavily as Peter slicked up two fingers and thrust them inside Edmund. Edmund grunted and buried his head in his arms, moaning as Peter added a third and started twisting them. Ben knew what he was looking for, that spot inside him that made him see stars. His jeans were far too tight now, pressing painfully on his cock and no amount of rearrangement could do a thing about it.

Edmund let out a strangled cry and Peter smirked in triumph. He withdrew his fingers and undid his own trousers, letting them fall to the floor. He pushed into Edmund with one long thrust and Ben used their moans to cover the sound of his own zip opening. He sighed in relief and grabbed his cock, pumping slowly in time with Peter’s thrusts. He changed his angle slightly and Edmund arched off the table with a shouted “FUCK”. Peter grinned and slapped him on the arse with an amused “Language.” A jolt went through Ben and he gritted his teeth in an effort not to come as a red handprint started to form.

His hand sped up as Peter pounded into Edmund who was now permanently arched and swearing, his eyes screwed shut in pleasure. Peter’s thrusts became more erratic, his hair stuck to his face with sweat. He moved one hand around to Edmund’s cock and pumped him furiously, the other fisted in his hair again, knocking the cap off in the process, and yanked his head back. He kissed him messily and Ben came suddenly with a choked gasp, leaning heavily against the wall for support. Through slightly clouded vision he saw Edmund shudder and flop onto the table then Peter go stiff and do the same. He would like to have heard it but the ringing in his ears made it impossible.

For several minutes he stood there breathing heavily and watching Will kiss Skandar’s neck affectionately before they both got to their feet and started pulling up trousers. He snapped back to reality and moved quickly into the next room along, tucking himself in and zipping himself up. He grimaced; he was never going to get those stains off his jeans. He spotted his mobile on the seat he’d been having his makeup done in and shoved it into his pocket. He waited uncertainly until he heard Will and Skandar leave and the doors swing closed behind them. He left the room cautiously, checking the corridor both ways before making a break for it. He was nearly at the double doors before he noticed a note taped to the wall he’d just been leaning against in Will’s handwriting.

THE END

Next ShowTime: Friday, 4 o’clock, Aslan’s how.

Lots of Love,

Will + Skandar

Ben smiled and shook his head as he put it in his pocket. “Oh you naughty boy you…”

FIN

Please Comment.

I don't want to go.

Sun, 31 Aug 2008 11:12:55 GMT

Title: I don’t want to go.
Pairing: Caspian/ Edmun
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Angst, Fluff
Word Count: 402 - tiny really
Summary: Post PC. Caspian confronts Edmund about leaving him.
A/N: Yet another piece of angst by me. I'm sorry, I promise to get back to writing smut soon, curretly writitng a whole bunch of epic sagas. If anyone can give me some Peter/Ed or Will/Skan PWP type things to serve as a distraction, it will probably be written soon.

“You’re leaving?”

The words brought Edmund back to earth with a jolt and he turned away from the window to see an enraged Caspian framed in the doorway. He nodded and looked outside again.

“But why?” Caspian asked as he moved closer. “Have I done something to displease you? Do you think I do not love you? Because I do Edmund, I really do.”

Edmund held up a hand to cut him off. “Aslan said I will.”

Caspian’s shoulders sagged in resignation and he stood beside Edmund at the window. “Will I ever see you again?” He whispered.

“I don’t know.” Edmund said honestly. He was staring at the courtyard below not because he found the scene particularly interesting, but because if he didn’t he would look at Caspian and then he would cry. “The last time we left we were only gone for a year in our time.”

Caspian’s voice sounded strained beside him. “So even if you go and come straight back, I could be dead and gone by the time you return.”

Edmund nodded, fighting the lump in his throat. Kings didn’t cry.

Caspian sighed. “Well,” he said “at least there is a chance that I will see you again. Your brother faces never coming back at all.”

Edmund nodded again, trying very hard to count the bricks on the opposite wall of the courtyard. Anything to stop him from crying.

“I will miss you.”

Edmund broke, turning on the spot and flinging his arms around Caspian’s neck. He sobbed into his shoulder. “I don’t want to go.” He whispered. “Why is he making me go? Why? Doesn’t he know about us?”

Caspian patted him on the back. “Maybe it is for the best.” He said shakily. “Maybe it is meant to be.”

Edmund broke away, angry tears streaming down his cheeks. “To hell with if it’s meant to be, I don’t want to go!”

Caspian pulled him for a hug with a sad smile. “And I don’t want you to leave, but Aslan knows what he is doing. We must trust in him. Come, it is time. The court is gathered, Aslan wishes to address them.” He wiped Edmund’s tears and kissed him gently. “Come.”

Edmund took his hand and they walked out of the room together. Leaving was hard yes, but in his heart he knew this wasn’t the last time he would have to do it.

FIN

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