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Atonement	By : Panymede Category: M through R > Peter Pan > AU/AR Views: 10486 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Peter Pan, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Atonement – Chapter 4

Peter suppressed a chuckle when the man above him moaned again. Maintaining his steady pressure and speed, he continued his ministrations on the organ in his mouth, his tongue massaging the underside of the rigid member while his hand caressed the base of the shaft. Hook groaned in response, the man’s breathing becoming more ragged and desperate. His other hand gripping Hook’s hip for support, Peter increased his tempo… but only a little. Both of them were enjoying themselves too much to end this soon. Repeating a trick he’d discovered that very morning, the boy pulled away so that only the head of the man’s phallus remained in his mouth. He began swirling his tongue around it, occasionally diving down to consume the entire member at once before pulling away again, teasing the man. His hand pumped the exposed shaft, giving it an extra squeeze before each dive of his mouth.

Hook’s hips bucked as he gave a ragged cry, his fist clenching so tightly at his side that Peter heard the joints pop. The boy did chuckle then, glancing up at the man mischievously, immensely proud of himself. This was his power over Hook – the only power left to him – and he was determined to make the most of it. He enjoyed making the man react, loved the sounds he could elicit with a simple flick of his tongue or twist of his wrist. He was the single most important thing in the world to James Hook in this moment, and he reveled in the attention. Seeing, hearing, and feeling his influence on Hook stirred strange feelings in him, feelings that were strong enough to make his own groin tighten. This strange reaction was something that had been happening to him more and more intensely over the past few days, and he wondered if it was anything like Hook felt when he grew hard. Whatever it was, he liked it and wanted more.

But most of all, Peter loved the way Hook would praise him afterwards. The man would touch him, caress him and shower him with kisses. Hearing how wonderful the captain thought he was, how special and talented, filled the boy with a calm warmth and sense of pride he desperately needed. Someone still cared for him, someone still thought Peter was worthy of living… maybe even of being loved. It was enough to banish the nightmares and memories, at least for a little while.

“Pan,” Hook’s voice was a ragged plea, his fingers snaking into the boy’s golden curls. The man’s thighs tensed rhythmically with the boy’s bobbing head, but he fought the urge to thrust indiscriminately into that delicious, oh-so-willing mouth. What Peter was doing to his cock was much too exquisite to interrupt, though if the boy didn’t let him come soon he felt he might die from need.

Let me come? Hook mused as he compressed his lips. He’d barely caught himself before he’d said “please”. There was no way in hell he’d beg the brat to give him release. Not if my life depended… I’m Captain… he’s my… my… “My God!” Hook cried out as Peter did something new and completely mind blowing. Sparks shot across the man’s vision and his entire body convulsed, his mind turning to mush once more.

Peter chuckled again, taking note of that trick. He tried to remember all the little things he did that got the strongest reactions from Hook, and he used them later mercilessly. He looked up at Hook, green eyes meeting blue, and his lips curled into as much of a smile as he could manage with a mouthful of cock. He maintained eye contact as his mouth slid along the shaft, slowing his motions as he watched the flickering expressions cross the man’s face. He knew Hook liked to watch him suck, the man had told him that often, so he made as much of a show of it as he could. Peter was pleased with the reactions he elicited with such ease, and the boy’s smug grin widened. You’re mine, Hook.

Indeed, Hook loved to watch Pan while the boy performed, loved watching those lush lips tight around his manhood, reveled in watching those golden curls bounce as the boy’s head bobbed. It was glorious, this feeling of power, his total dominion over Pan as the boy eagerly serviced him. The only thing Hook thought would feel even more delectable would be fucking the boy, but it wasn’t quite time for that yet. He was becoming oddly protective of Peter, and didn’t want to rush him. Not yet.

But then Hook caught the boy’s cocky expression, his gleaming eyes, smug smirk, and heard the boy’s throaty chuckle. A few of the man’s fractured thoughts coalesced into a dull anger, coupled with a desire to knock that conceited smirk off the brat’s face. It reminded him so strongly of the old Peter Pan that his claw arm began to twitch. His fist tightened in the boy’s hair as Pan’s agile tongue elicited yet another cry, making the man’s hips jerk again.

“Now, brat,” he growled, glaring at Peter in anger muted by desire. He, James Hook, was in control here; Pan was merely his catamite… Peter obediently increased his pace, the pressures of his lips and fingers increasing until they were nearly painful in their exquisite ecstasy. “Oh, my lovely,” Hook gasped, his anger shattering as the unbelievable pleasure wracking his body, and all he could think of was the beautiful creature suckling him. “My Pan,” he growled, hips rocking gently. He would not hurt the boy this time by brutally thrusting into him… but oh, how he wanted to.

“Pan,” he gasped again, the name becoming his chant as his climax neared, until finally he screamed it, his hips bucking violently forward despite his previous control and driving his shaft deep into the mouth that had pleasured him so well.

Peter grunted as the captain’s seed filled his throat and he immediately began swallowing, not only because the man demanded it but also because he didn’t want to choke. He’d only spit once and he nearly vomited when he saw what it was that he’d been swallowing before. Hook had not been terribly happy with him then and had threatened dire punishments if Peter didn’t finish his work properly in the future. Afraid to anger Hook, Peter carefully licked the twitching, softening phallus clean. When he was done he sat back on his heels and looked up at Hook, waiting expectantly. The man swayed unsteadily, his eyes squeezed shut and head bowed. Hook always looked so vulnerable when he was spent, and Peter enjoyed seeing him like that almost as much as he liked hearing Hook call out his name. I made him feel like that. I did that to him.

The boy smiled again, rubbing his lips lightly to ease their soreness. When the man’s breathing evened out and he began to stir, Peter asked, “Wasn’t I wonderful, sir?”

Hook opened his eyes and saw Pan kneeling at his feet, his expression filled with more cocky arrogance than he’d ever displayed since his capture. Hook felt his annoyance and anger return as he straightened up, frowning. He would have to do something about this; no one on his knees after sucking a man off had any business looking that damned smug. Perhaps he’d been coddling the brat too much.

“You did well enough,” Hook lied, pulling his robe closed with an angry jerk. Pan had, in fact, been simply amazing, especially considering it had only been five days since his first lesson in fellatio. But to say that aloud would only inflate Pan’s swollen head further. The boy’s composure shattered immediately and the man felt a surge of guilty pleasure at the confused, hurt expression that replaced the boy’s pride. Can’t he do anything by halves? Arrogant or melancholy, but never betwixt the two.

Peter stood slowly, his gaze dropping to his feet. “I’m… I’m sorry,” he mumbled, feeling lost. “I thought… I’ll do better, I promise…” he glanced up and saw Hook staring at him stonily, and the boy felt a wrenching pain in his chest. He’d thought he’d done so well, he’d thought he’d pleased the man… but Hook was angry at him again. “What did I do wrong?” Peter asked miserably, tears filling his eyes.

Hook’s guilt increased tenfold, driving away what he realized had been an irrational anger. Of course the boy had a right to feel proud. Peter based his entire self-worth on pleasing Hook, and the captain had been extremely pleased tonight. But the man couldn’t backtrack now and tell the boy he’d lied, so he decided to simply make it up to Peter next time. Hook went to his washstand, cleaning up while ignoring the boy’s misery as much as he could.

“Time for bed, Pan,” Hook barked, wincing at his unintentionally sharp tone. He shook his head at the boy’s whispered “yes sir” and decided he’d make it up to Peter sooner than next time. He washed his face and hand, deciding to let Pan try shaving him tomorrow morning (under Smee’s supervision, of course). As useful as the boy was for sexual gratification, he needed to have other duties to occupy him between times. Making him take on some of Smee’s more domestic chores seemed like a good decision: it freed up the old man to do his real job of boatswain. It would also perhaps give Peter something else on which to base his sense of worth - he was far too fragile in that respect.

Peter stood beside the bed hesitantly, wondering if he was still welcome in it. He’d slept alongside Hook for the past five nights, free from his nightmares while lying safe and comfortable in the man’s arms. But if the captain was upset at him, perhaps he would have to sleep on a pallet once more. He preferred to sleep with Hook, as much as a part of him hated to admit it, and the thought of being banished to the floor made his feeling of rejection sting even more.

“C-can I still sleep with you, Captain?” he asked, watching the man in misery and confusion, trying not to cry while he waited to be told where he’d pass the night. He loathed himself in this moment, hating himself for needing and wanting Hook so much, yet still he waited.

The captain turned to the boy, frowning. “Why wouldn’t you sleep with me? Don’t worry, Pan; when I no longer desire your company, you can rest assured I will let you know in no uncertain terms.” He’d kill the boy before he sent him away, he had no doubts about that.

Seeing the unshed tears in the boy’s eyes, his wistful, hopeful expression, Hook felt a sudden need to make Peter smile. “Come here, lad,” he called softly, holding out his hand. When Peter took a hesitant step and paused, chewing his bottom lip while frowning worriedly, Hook closed the gap between them and pulled the boy close. “I’m not going to hurt you, Pan,” he reassured the boy, stroking Peter’s smooth, soft cheek with his calloused fingers. The boy’s eyes closed briefly and he tilted his face up, presenting the Captain with his willing lips. There was no way Hook could deny himself such a pleasure, and he captured Peter’s mouth with his own, losing himself to the boy’s talents.

Peter broke the kiss when his need for air became too great, and he pulled away gasping, his face flushed and eyes bright. One side of his mouth curled up into a smile when he saw Hook was similarly affected. “You do think I’m wonderful, don’t you?” he asked softly, knowing the truth now but still desiring to hear it.

“Aye,” Hook replied, “but you’re far too cocky for your own good. I think I’m going to have to teach you a lesson.” What he really wanted to do was to pin Peter facedown across the bed and plunge balls-deep into his virgin heat, but he reigned in that compulsion with relative ease. He’d been practicing restraint with Peter, and he’d learned it quite well by now. But I can at least start preparing him for the day I finally claim him completely, and teach him some new tricks while I’m at it.

“Go to that cabinet,” Hook ordered, pointing to a wall, “and fetch me the brown bottle. After that, I want you to strip.” Peter complied without hesitation this time. Hook seated himself in his favorite chair and watched the boy, feeling his arousal return as Peter shimmied out of his nightshirt. Once Pan stood naked, Hook beckoned to him with a grin. “Lie across my lap, boy.”

Peter arched an eyebrow, surprised. “Are you gonna spank me?” he asked, feeling an odd yearning. Hook hadn’t spanked him in weeks and he’d never liked it before, but the thought of the man’s hand on his bare bottom sent unexpected thrills through him.

“Do you want me to?” Hook retorted in amusement. If Pan liked that sort of thing, the man felt confident he could oblige him. The pirate had rather enjoyed those sessions, but there were other things he could do with Pan that he enjoyed more.

Peter considered it for a moment before he answered. “A little bit. I know I deserve to be punished, but I don’t like it when you hit me. But that last time you spanked me, you’d rub the sting away. I like it when you touch me like that.”

Hook’s pulse sped up and he motioned for the boy to step closer. “Say that again.”

“I like it when you touch me,” Peter repeated, his voice low and naively wanton as he noticed the man’s rising excitement beneath the robe. He bit his lip again, wondering if he could take a second chance at pleasing Hook and get out of being punished. “Do you want me to suck you again, Captain?” he asked, his hand sliding down the man’s chest towards the bulge beneath the cloth. “I don’t want you to be mad anymore.”

Gall and brimstone, yes, the man thought dizzily. Hook had asked Peter to suck many times, but this was the first time the boy offered willingly, and the question sounded delightfully sinful on those young lips. Barely keeping his resolve, Hook gently removed the boy’s hand and pushed him a step back. “Across my lap. Now. Or I’ll end up hurting you.”

Peter’s face fell in disappointment but he obeyed, bracing his hands on Hook’s right leg as he lowered his weight across the man’s thighs. Hook’s legs spread so that both Peter’s chest and hips rested easily, and Peter spread his own feet apart to give himself more leverage against the anticipated blows. He heard a soft pop, and it took Peter a moment to realize Hook had opened the brown bottle he’d left on the table beside the chair. Something cold was poured onto his back, the unexpected sensation startling Peter.

“Hold still, lad,” Hook purred, pouring a pool of oil into the small of Peter’s back. If he’d had two hands, this would have been easier, but he’d learned long ago to make do with what he had. He set the bottle aside and dipped his fingers in the oil, coating the lubricant on them thickly. Smiling wickedly, he lowered his hand to the boy’s cleft and began to gently caress his opening.

Peter jerked again when the slick finger touched him in that sensitive area, but the arm across his shoulders held him down firmly, severely limiting his movement. He heard Hook chuckle and began to relax. It wasn’t hard, the man’s finger was causing strange yet pleasant sensations, like tingles that spiraled into his groin and gut, coalescing into a small fire. He settled down and let himself enjoy the feeling, spreading his legs a little more to give the fingers easier access. Hook laughed again, taking the boy’s willingness as proof that he was ready for more. He pressed the tip of his finger against Peter’s entrance, and before the boy had time to realize his intentions the finger forced its way inside. Peter tensed with a yelp, trying to expel the invading digit from his body even as he tried to stand, but Hook effortlessly held him in place.

“Easy, now,” Hook said soothingly, keeping the finger firmly inside the boy while Peter struggled. The muscles around the digit were clenched exquisitely tight, and Hook felt his arousal deepen when he imagined that tightness encircling his phallus. “Relax, Peter,” he continued, keeping his voice firm and calm. “Accept it, don’t fight me.”

“What are you doing?” Peter asked breathlessly, giving up on trying to stand but unable to relax enough to accept the intrusion. “I don’t like this, take it out!”

“I’ll do as I please,” Hook corrected mildly, too understanding of the boy’s confusion and alarm to be angry at his little rebellion. “I want you to get used to this, Peter, because there’s more to come. Relax or it will hurt. I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if you fight me. And if you fight me, I will be very angry with you.” He felt the boy’s body slowly relax, bit by bit, as Peter forced himself to calm down. “Good lad,” Hook praised, genuine warmth in his voice. “Just lie there and let me touch you. You said you like it when I touch you, didn’t you?”

“Y-yes,” Peter gasped as the finger inside him began to move, sliding most of the way out before thrusting back in. It burned a little bit and felt strange but it didn’t hurt anymore. The third time Hook’s finger slid inside, it stroked a place that Peter had never dreamed existed. His entire body shuddered and he cried out in shock as a heady need began to grow inside him, stoked by the strange pleasure that flared with each caress of Hook’s fingertip. Peter’s small hands clenched the man’s leg tightly, soft moans escaping his lips as the need continued to grow. His body responded instinctually, beginning to rock against Hook’s hand, the man continuing his gentle assault with a smile.

“Like this, Pan?” Hook hissed, watching the boy’s reaction with barely contained glee. He hadn’t expected Peter to respond this well - the most he’d realistically hoped for was to teach the boy to adjust to the penetration so that the damage would be minimized the first time Hook fucked him. But Peter was obviously stimulated by Hook’s ministrations, a development that positively delighted the man with its wondrous possibilities. After a little while he added a second finger, eliciting another pained cry from Peter as he found himself suddenly stretched wider. The boy tensed again, wriggling to escape the penetration, but as before Hook easily kept him pinned until Peter managed to calm down and submit.

Peter lay gasping, shaking slightly in the wake of the pleasure-turned-pain. He made himself relax bit by bit, finding that as his muscles down there unclenched, the pain lessened. It was all he could do; he knew that he was powerless to make the man stop, and a large part of him wanted a return of that pleasure that had rocked him moments ago. His efforts were rewarded when the two fingers began moving inside him, quickly finding that magical spot again. Peter moaned, the last vestiges of his resistance evaporating in the presence of the growing need that completely engulfed him, oblivious to everything, including the growing life in his own member. But Hook wasn’t oblivious, and his smile widened when he felt something stir and stiffen against his thigh.

“Do you want more, or shall I stop?” he asked. He didn’t really care what Peter answered, he’d already decided to take this game another step forward, but he was curious to hear what the boy might say. It would be lovely indeed if Peter would beg him for more.

But Peter didn’t answer, too absorbed in the building pleasure that was dancing along every nerve in his body to hear the question. But when the fingers within him stilled Peter mewled in protest, needing more of whatever the man had been doing to him. “Don’t stop,” he pleaded, trying to turn his head to look up at Hook.

“I think we should try something else,” Hook replied, contemplating the boy. He carefully slid his fingers from the boy’s heat, giving the opening a few soothing strokes before letting his hand roam downward, sliding across the boy’s perineum and scrotum until he verified Peter’s half-hardened sex. “I think someone’s been enjoying themselves more than I thought they would,” Hook chuckled as he pulled the boy upright, wanting to see just how capable of enjoyment Peter really was. He smiled at Peter’s flushed, slightly glazed expression, then let his eyes wander south to fall upon the boy’s erection. “Very nice,” he murmured, debating how best to encourage the boy further.

It’s like Hook’s, Peter thought in bemusement as he looked down at himself, feeling both shame and pride at his body’s reaction to the man’s ministrations. He’d lately become intimately acquainted with portions of Hook’s anatomy, and so now knew how these things came about and what was done with them. He’d felt himself stir before, but he’d never reacted quite like this and on some level it frightened him. It seemed altogether too grown-up. He looked to Hook and suddenly felt the urge to cover himself and flee, but as soon as his hand went to his groin, the man grabbed Peter’s wrist and shook his head.

“No, lad. Come here and let me help you with that.” Hook pulled Peter toward him and before the boy could protest, he was sitting in the man’s lap with his back against Hook’s chest and the man’s knees between his own, forcing his legs to remain apart. Hook snaked his claw arm about Peter’s waist to hold him in place. “Lie back, Peter,” he whispered in the boy’s ear, encouraging Peter to recline against him. Gently, seductively, Hook began kissing and licking at the boy’s delicate lobe, lavishing the sensitive areas on the side of the boy’s face and neck as his good hand trailed up Peter’s thigh. “Let me touch you,” he added when his hand reached the boy’s erection, gently biting Peter’s ear as he gave the shaft a stroke.

Peter groaned when Hook’s hand closed around his sex, his eyes closing in pleasure as his head fell back to rest upon the man’s right shoulder. He could guess what Hook was about to do to him, he’d done similar to the man often enough. He was curious to know what it was like being the one touched. Then the hand began to stroke him, and the sensations that washed over him immediately destroyed his capacity for rational thought. What Hook’s fingers had done to him earlier was nothing in comparison to this. He’d never imagined anything could feel this good and he willingly surrendered his body to Hook’s manipulations. He’d do anything if only the feeling would never end.

Hook’s oiled fingers slid easily around the boy’s flesh, pumping him steadily, squeezing lightly in some places, merely tickling in others. Hook had never brought another male off in this manner, never caring enough about the body he was using for his own pleasure to see to the other’s needs. But he cared now, and with Peter sitting against him this way it was much like bringing himself to completion, so he touched the boy in all the ways he remembered touching himself. Peter cried out repeatedly, words of “Please” and “Hook” echoing in the room with increasing desperation, interspersed with moans and whimpers. Hook could feel his own erection nestling against the boy’s cleft, separated by a mere layer of cloth, and his own desire burned hot in response to the way the boy writhed in his lap, rubbing against the man’s rigid sex.

“Come for me, Peter,” Hook whispered urgently, increasing his strokes. He held the boy tightly, blindly grinding Peter’s rump into his hips. He felt the boy quiver, felt the boy’s fingers tighten with bruising force around his arms, and knew Pan was close. “Come,” he commanded again, his skillful hand giving the boy a few more practiced strokes, and then Peter screamed, stiffening in Hook’s arms as his body was wracked with his first climax.

“Good boy,” Hook crooned, kissing Peter’s cheek as continued to milk the youth, smiling at the way the boy shuddered and twitched in the aftermath of his orgasm. “You did wonderfully, Pan. Such a sweet lad,” he praised.

Peter lay against the man, dazed and spent, his chest heaving as he tried to recollect his scattered senses. All he was aware of was the gentle voice speaking to him, the strong arm holding him, the warm hand caressing him, and a strong sense of satisfaction, peace, and exhaustion. He couldn’t find the strength or willpower to move, so he lay there, boneless with bliss. “I…” he tried, feeling that he should somehow thank the man, but unable to remember quite how to speak.

“Hush, lad,” Hook chided, amused by the boy’s exhausted state. He gathered Peter up and carried him to the bed, walking carefully with the agony of his own erection. He lay Peter facedown on the bed and climbed in beside him, taking a quick moment to drop his robe and shrug off his harness. He lay on his side facing Peter, so close that his phallus brushed the boy’s buttocks. By Pan’s deep, even breaths, he knew the youth was already fast asleep.

Shaking with barely contained excitement and need, Hook began stroking his own rigid sex, his motions hard and fast as he imagined himself inside Peter - hearing the boy’s cries, feeling the lithe body writhe against him. With Pan so close, his scent strong in Hook’s nose and the boy’s seed still on his hand, Hook was quickly undone, spilling himself across Peter’s backside with a ragged cry. Spent and satisfied at last, the man pulled Peter close, burying his nose in the boy’s hair as he relaxed into sleep.

“I will come inside you next time, Pan,” Hook swore softly, squeezing the limp body affectionately. “Next time and every time.” Peter murmured something, more in response to the sound of the voice than what was said, but Hook didn’t care, already drifting himself. Both man and boy enjoyed their first night of deep, satisfying sleep, filled with dreams that healed instead of hurt.

To be continued (I promise… have to give them some happy times before I rip Peter’s little heart out)
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Atonement