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Normal	By : JessJ Category: M through R > Peter Pan > Het Views: 5047 -:- 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.

Chapter List
- 1-Normal
- 1
Author’s note: This was the third installment in a series. The other entries can be found at ff.net under my account, same pen name there as here. Yes, it is a weird pairing, I know.

Disclaimer: Don’t own, don’t sue.
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NORMAL

Normal was overrated. That was what Tinker Bell had always believed. Normal was boring and dull and bland. She and Peter, they went against normal, they loved anything that was not normal. The further from normal, the more they loved it, the better the adventure.
As Tinker Bell hovered over Captain James Hook, her eyes staring straight down at him but not really seeing him at the moment, she realized something. A great epiphany, something true and cold, something that she would never be able to shake or forget or pretend she did not know.
Normal was not always overrated. Sometimes, it was greatly underrated. Because right now, as she finally settled down on Hook’s shoulder as he slept, for once, peacefully, she wished she was normal. She wished they both were.
That she was a normal, human female. That he was a normal, human male. That they had met under normal circumstances. That they had a normal relationship. That they lived in a normal place, and could carry on a normal conversation.
But they were not normal. They never would be normal. It was impossible, and yet she longed for it. She longed to be a normal human, to not have Peter to worry and care about, to not be a tiny pixie only good for spreading faerie dust and causing mischief. She wanted to be able to stop caring about Peter, but she could not.
Yet the fact that she had finally arrived at the point where she even dared to think of not caring about Peter frightened her. And all because of the very man responsible for her death, the villain that had fought Peter’s heroics, the pirate that had tried to steal Peter’s fun and his own life.
Though if she really did think about it, which she was doing more often despite her hatred of it, Hook was just as much a victim of Peter’s fantasy play of life as Peter was of Hook’s tyranny over Neverland. Peter had needed a villain to save the day from, and Neverland had given him one in its quest to make and keep Peter happy.
Sighing, Tink shoved her thoughts away as she looked up at Hook, his eyes closed but not clenched shut. Very rarely had she found him sleeping peacefully, for his sleep was usually more fitful than Peter’s. She often wondered what would happen if one night his dreams would wake him at last, she wondered if he would even notice her.
She was used to being ignored or not even noticed to begin with after Peter woke from a nightmare. He liked to pretend it had never happen and if she had witnessed that it had, he would ignore her, making certain she did not remind him that even he, Peter Pan, slept and dreamt and had nightmares.
Would Hook be the same, should his nightmares ever wake him? Would he pretend he was free of them? Tink found herself giggling at the thought that Hook and Peter shared a similar habit of silly pride, but then suddenly she stopped.
If Hook would do that, did do that, then what did that make Peter? A man? Now that she thought about it, it was almost a, a grown up thing to do in her mind. From what she knew, children did not like to pretend they did not have nightmares, or ignore those who knew. They preferred to be comforted, they liked to be told that it was only imaginary and in their dreams. That they were safe even though the dreams spoke of danger.
But then, Peter was always in danger it seemed. Still, Tinker Bell knew she would be pondering this in the future, on many occasions most likely. Once she got something in her mind, she always thought about again at least once more later on.
Now though, she wanted to make the unnerving thoughts go away, so she shook her head vigorously and then laid it back down on Hook’s shoulder. Curling up, she settled down for sleep. She always woke up before he did. She had slept on his shoulder many times, and had always woken up before he did. Then she would fly away and pretend it had never happened.
That was what she did when Peter banished her. She would come to Hook, whether he was asleep or awake, and would spend her exiles with him until she knew Peter wanted her back. And then she would return to the ageless boy. And curse Neverland for making everything so complicated.
The more time she spent with Hook, the more she wanted everything to be uncomplicated, to be, she almost hated to think it, normal. She felt something for Hook that she did not feel for Peter. She suddenly understood why Wendy had wanted Peter to grow up.
Peter was, though he did not act like it at times, a boy. A child that would never grow up, one who refused to and would never have to, for Neverland did not wish for him to grow up and leave.
Tinker Bell, though she could get jealous, though she was possessive, though she had once wanted Peter all for herself, did not truly see Peter as anything more than a boy. But Hook was another story.
Hook was a man and was dark, yet he could show the ability to be as selfless as Peter could sometimes be selfish. He hated his existence, hated Neverland, and hated Peter. Peter and Neverland kept him trapped, and Tink could tell he had always felt that the walls were constantly closing in on him.
Other than piracy, nothing of his life before Neverland was known, and that had caused enough theories and tales to be conjured up among Peter and the Lost Boys, when they had still been around. He obviously held many dark secrets, and was certainly not a gentle man. But he had shown the capacity to be, well, kind, and had strangely given Tinker Bell a warm place to stay during her exiles. Without ever asking for anything in return. Without ever tricking her into harming Peter, or anything of that sort.
Tinker Bell was finding herself fascinated by this man with his secret past and melancholy eyes and dark moods and his weary attitude. Drawn to him, because even the most innocent of her kind still had their own dark, devious side.
They were Fae, faeries, pixies. They were not all perfect and sweet. And even though she and Peter were not always innocent and kind, Peter was still at heart a youth and an innocent one. He forgot many of the darker deeds he ever did, or experienced.
With Hook though, she felt a thrill and yet she felt at ease, she felt warm inside yet she felt strangely nervous. She wanted something from him, with him, something she could never have. And that was why she wanted to be normal. Then she could have it. She could have him.
Yawning, Tinker Bell closed her eyes, letting sleep creep in and take over, her world fading into dreams. All the while wishing she could have just one night with the pirate captain to be normal.

***

Sleep was not something James Hook looked forward to very often. It was almost always restless, light slumber, and even now on his abandoned ship he still found himself waking far too often. Thankfully not near as often. Though sometimes, when he dreamt, he wished he could be roused easily.
But he was finding that heavy, peaceful, restful sleep was beginning to visit him more often. He did not carry the same dread of sleep that he used to. His dreams were finding from his mind, and when they did come they were no longer so vivid and violent.
Why this was happening, he did not know. Perhaps it was because he had given up his crusade to destroy Pan, perhaps it was because Pan was not aware that his old enemy was indeed alive and well and had not come after Hook seeking to push the pirate back into his crusade. Maybe it was because he was not so alone anymore.
Because every so often, in fact almost every night now, he had a real companion. In probably the most ironic person imaginable yet still possible. In Peter’s own best friend and supposedly the faerie that had brought Pan here, Tinker Bell.
Every time the pixie was banished, she would come to Hook, and he would give her shelter for the period of her exile. She wanted a place to stay, he wanted someone to talk to, to just be there. Not one of his lackeys, not Smee, just a companion that did not view him as a feared leader or a reviled villain. And Tinker Bell, strangely, did not see him as that when she came to him now. She had even kissed his nose once, out of pity.
He had never been pitied before, and while many would never wish to, even he himself had felt that way once, it was not quite so condescending as he had feared. It was in actuality, nice for a change. Comforting in a very odd way.
So from then on, Tink had come to stay with him during her exiles, and he had enjoyed the companionship. Perhaps that was why he had begun to find peace in sleep now instead of fitful nightmares. Now he could let himself drift off with something akin to ease.
And he almost always slept till the dawn. But tonight, as he felt sleep fade into consciousness, he knew he had not slept even close. He had a feeling the strange, unknown weight on his chest was the cause. Reaching towards his chest as awareness returned to his senses, he suddenly realized there was a body lying on top of him.
A female body. A naked, female body. Lying on top of him. Curled against him. He could feel smooth skin against his, warm breath hitting his neck, silken hair falling over his shoulder and chest, the top of a head rubbing against his chin and jaw.
He immediately tensed. While a part of him enjoyed this, it was not right. There were no women in Neverland, except for the Redskin women. And there certainly were not any onboard his ship. There was not supposed to be anyone on the Jolly Roger other than himself and Tinker Bell whenever she came to visit.
But she could barely cover the top of his shoulder, much less most of his chest and have enough left over to curl up beside his body.
His hands fell on a shoulder as his eyes opened, his fingers touching soft skin and hair while his eyes landed upon a head, face buried against his neck. Golden hair, pale skin, so it was most definitely not a Redskin. Slowly, taking care not to wake her, he brushed aside the hair that covered her face.
“Impossible,” he breathed, staring at the female’s face in utter shock and confusion. “It is impossible, not a way for this to be,” he muttered on. He blinked rapidly several times, unable to believe his own eyes. He began to push himself up, then stopped, afraid of waking her just yet.
He stopped too late.
Slowly, the female’s eyes fluttered open, a soft moan escaping her lips as she moved her head to look up. Those eyes immediately widened and those lips open to let out a scream as she jumped off of him, stumbling as her legs shakily hit the ground beside the bed. Obviously unaware of her state of undress, she backed away from him.
Well, she tried to at least, but her legs were weak and shaky, and after only two steps, she fell to the ground, a tangled up mess of long limbs, too long for the female they belonged to. Fear and confusion written all over her face, Tinker Bell stared up at him.
“I will take your reaction and expression as a no to the question of whether you know how this happened or not,” Hook said softly, sitting up and swinging his legs over the bed so that he could stand. Slowly walking over to her, he handed her a sheet from his bed, covering her.
With both hands.
“It, it is not possible,” he whispered, his eyes fixed on the prefect right hand. There was not one scar, not a sign that it had ever been cut off. He barely registered Tinker Bell had moved until he saw her fingers, touching his hand, and he could do nothing but watch her explore the restored limb with a strange numbness.
Her fingers were soft and gentle, curious and exploring, but completely innocent and fascinated. She stared at it curiously, and as Hook finally snapped out of his shock, he could see the thoughts connecting in her mind as she stared at his hand.
“You do know, don’t you, Miss Bell?” he asked her, his voice amazingly calm. “You know how this happened.”
She met his eyes, her brow furrowing in frustration. She glanced over her shoulder and yelped, moving forward and tackling him to the floor. “My wings!” she exclaimed. In English. Human speech, a real voice escaping her throat.
“Well the surprises never end, do they?” Hook replied with slight amusement as Tinker Bell’s eyes widened yet again. “Now, would you care to explain Miss Bell?”
“I, well,” she closed her eyes, as if she had to concentrate to form coherent sentences now. “I am not positive,” she spoke slowly, pronouncing each word loudly and unsurely, “but it may have to do with my wish,” she explained.
“Your wish?” Hook asked, still just as confused as he was upon waking and realizing there was a woman on top of him.
Tink nodded. “I, when I came here and saw you sleeping, I decided to sleep here, on your shoulder. I have done it before. When I find you asleep on nights that I am exiled, like tonight.” She paused and took a few deep breaths. It was apparent she was not quite comfortable with actually speaking. “As I feel asleep, I wished,” she stopped abruptly, her eyes avoiding his. “I wished we could be normal.”
“Normal?”

Nodding again, Tinker Bell continued. “Yes, normal. I just wanted to be normal for one night, for us both to be normal for one night. I did not think it would actually happen though,” she added, suddenly becoming aware she was again lying on top of the pirate captain.
Hook mused over her words, regarding her with a blank expression. He was quite curious of why she would want them to be “normal” and why that meant her being human sized and without her wings or any other signs of truly being a faerie. Or why it meant he had his right hand back, as though it had never been taken from him.
“Why did you want us to be normal, me dear?” he inquired, pushing back a few strands of hair that had fallen over her face. When his fingers brushed against her forehead, she shivered and leaned into his touch, eyes closing.
“Because I wanted this,” she whispered, her voice gaining what Hook could only describe as a husky quality. She rubbed her forehead against his hand awkwardly, a smile forming as she did.
Hook cocked his head to the side, utterly enthralled with how she reacted to his touch, transfixed at how she was so eager for such a simple form of contact. He moved his hand down, fingers stroking her cheek and her smile grew.
“You wanted this?” he asked, taking in her expression of pure delight and her heavy breathing. He smiled faintly as she nodded, never moving away form his hand, never opening her eyes. Reaching up with his other hand, his right hand, he placed it over her chest, where her heart was, feeling it beat inside her.
She opened her eyes, meeting his uncertainly. “Why do I feel this way?” she asked him, voice barely audible.
Hook shrugged. “I cannot say, my dear. I am not completely sure what it is you feel,” he replied. “Tell me what you feel, we can figure out where to go from there perhaps.” He waited patiently, watching as she again closed her eyes and concentrated.
“Warm,” she told him softly. “Very warm. Nervous. Yet, at ease in an odd way. There is a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach,” she explained and hook swore his breath hitched for the first time in what felt like centuries.
He moved his hands to cup her face, thumbs rubbing her cheeks. “How about now?”
Tinker Bell opened her eyes, her gaze confused and yet so certain. “I, I feel,” she paused, searching for the right word.
“Still warm? Warmer?” he asked, receiving a nod. He moved his hands to caress her neck, his fingers stroking her skin in what should have been too delicate a manner for him to possess. “And how about now?”
Tinker Bell moaned, eyes again closing. “Good. Very good. And still warm,” she informed him. “I want,” she hesitated.
“You want what?”
“I want you to give me a kiss.”
It was a very simple, direct statement. And it sent James Hook reeling.
“You want me to give you a kiss?” he repeated, more to himself than asking her for confirmation. He rubbed his knuckles down her neck and across her shoulders, taking in the way she trembled slightly.
“Yes,” she replied, again nodding. She opened her eyes. “I want a kiss.”
Hook smiled. “Well, I cannot deny the lady that,” he told her, leaning over and planting a chaste kiss on her nose. “In truth, I have wanted to do that since you gave me such a gesture,” he told her softly.
Tinker Bell blushed, but pouted slightly. “That was most certainly not a real kiss.”
A wicked gleam entered Hook’s clear, blue eyes. “A real kiss? You want a real kiss? Well, my dear, you shall receive one.” Moving his hands to hold her neck gently, he moved his lips to cover hers, kissing her much more intimately than Wendy had kissed Pan. This was no first kiss between adolescent youths, no nervous, tentative contact between two teenagers experiencing puppy love.
This was a kiss between two adults, from a grown man of age and maturity and a faerie now turned into a woman. It was soft and warm and hinting of passion and a fierceness Tinker Bell had never known. She felt her self moving closer to Hook, something inside her telling her she wanted to be near him, against him again.
Hook felt like he was drowning, submerged. He could do nothing but drink her in, taste her, feel her, smell her, want her. He wanted her, wanted her pressed against his body again, more so than before. It had been so long, perhaps centuries, since he had desired a woman in such a way, since he had even seen or touched a woman at all. Neverland had never been a land of female inhabitants.
Moving his hands to run through her hair, his fingers entangling in the silken strands, he moved his mouth to her jaw line, trailing chaste kisses along her jaw and back to her mouth, giving her a moment to breathe.
Tinker Bell was no longer warm. She was on fire, burning, she swore it was so. She had never, ever felt anything like this. She had always been too small to be able to even think of feeling this way. And now she felt overwhelmed by it, but she still longed for more. She finally gave in to the urge to touch him, timidly placing her hands on his shoulders.
He was wearing on a bit more than she was with her sheet, black pants and a loose, white shirt all he slept in. As her fingers gripped the fabric of his shirt, she could feel his shoulders, feel he was just as warm as she was.
Hook groaned, tearing his mouth away from hers and stared at her, watching as she opened her eyes and gazed up at him uncertainly, worriedly almost. He placed a hand over her mouth, smiling softly when her eyes half-closed. He was fascinated by how much she enjoyed the simplest of gestures. He also knew that though she was enjoying the more, heated gestures, she most likely was not ready or willing to go much farther.
So best he stopped while he still could.
“My dear, we have to end this,” he told her, his voice strained ever so slightly. “If we go any farther, we will end up doing something you probably do not want to do and will greatly regret ever happening. And do not want to loose this strange yet quite wonderful friendship we have formed.”
Tinker Bell gazed up at him, not comprehending. She was like Pan in many ways, unable to fully understand things such as this. She did not understand that this would lead to something that would only take away her innocence and carefree nature. She was a child in this area, and Hook did not have the heart to shove her into maturity.
“How about we just sleep now,” he said, then paused, brow furrowing. “Miss Bell, will this wish f yours wear off?”
Tinker Bell nodded. “At dawn most likely,” she told him.
“That is probably for the best,” he stated, but his eyes were dark and sad, and he cast a brief glance at his hand before returning his gaze to her. He reached up, stroking her cheek with his right hand. “As much as I want to go on, as much as I want to continue, we, we must not.”
A small hand reached up, delicate fingers stroking his hair and then forehead before brushing against his mustache and beard. “Why?” she asked quietly. “Why must we stop? You say you do not, and I know I do not.” She cupped his cheek, repeating motions he had done with her. Meeting his eyes, she went on, bolder now. “I do not know where we are going, but I do know that I want to go there.”
“You do not know what you are saying,” Hook replied, but her hand now covered his mouth, cutting him off. He felt himself shiver as well when he fingers brushed his lips.
“I feel something with you. For you. Something I do not truly understand, nor ever thought I could feel. And now that I am finally big enough to truly feel it in its entirety, and to find out what it is this feeling is making me want, you would take that away from me.” She gave him a dark glare. “I thought Peter was the only one to deny me what I wanted.”
It was a ruse, a clever trick to make Hook let go, even if only for a moment. It worked.
Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pulled her to him, pressing her body against his. “Do not ever compare me to Pan,” he hissed, but Tinker Bell was not afraid. She smiled, a familiar sparkle in her eyes, and Hook realized he had fallen for her bait.
Without anymore warning, she was kissing him, following the instructions he had given her when he had initiated their kiss. She reached up, now grabbing Hook’s shoulders, fingertips gripping him tightly. She sighed when Hook returned the kiss, then pulled away, startled, when she felt his tongue against her lips.
Hook started to apologize, but Tinker Bell simply shook her head. She kissed him, this time letting her own tongue venture out. If Hook could do it, why not she after all? Hook groaned again, a very satisfying sound to Tinker Bell’s ears, and opened his mouth, his tongue brushing against hers.
“Tinker Bell,” Hook said as he broke away from her again. The sound of her full name coming from him was odd, and caught her attention. “Do you truly wish to finish this? To take it as far as it can go?” he asked her with an air of finality. This was it, her last chance to put an end to it all.
“Captain James Hook,” she replied, in a strange way enjoying the sound of her voice saying his name, “would you prefer we not?” She wanted to know if he wished it to stop, if he did not want her.
“I will take that as a yes then,” he replied and kissed her again, resuming the dance they had started. He shuddered as he felt Tinker Bell’s arms moving so that her hands could run down his back.
She was following instinct now, but Tink was enjoying where it led her. She knew they were heading towards something big, something important, and she was finding herself wanting it more and more. She felt herself thinking of Peter for a moment, feeling a small sense of guilt for betraying him. But then she pushed it away, determined she would have this.
Peter had his first kiss, Wendy’s first kiss, a kiss that would always belong to him and only him. And it was all he wanted. But Tink, for whatever reason, she wanted more. Why should she feel so guilty for that? When Peter had so easily dismissed her for Wendy, why could Tinker Bell not have this one night with Hook?
Hook’s hands moved up from her waist and his fingers encountered skin, bare skin where the sheet did not cover her back. Lazily, he ran his fingers up and down her spine, smiling against her mouth when she shivered and tried to press herself closer to him. He moved his mouth down from hers, placing kisses on her cheeks, nose, chin, then began making his way to her neck, sucking on a bit of skin. He felt her fingers dig into him in reaction, and Hook swallowed down a groan. He had forgotten how good it felt to have a woman react to pleasure.
“We need to move to the bed,” he finally told her. “It would be best to continue this there, trust me.” He pushed her away slightly, rising to his feet and helping her stand. The sheet feel down and Tink moved to catch it, but Hook stopped her. “You won’t need it anymore tonight,” he whispered.
Tinker Bell was suddenly aware of the fact that his gaze was making her feel just as warmer as his touch, and she could feel the liquid fire inside her stomach flood through her again, then return to settle down in the pit of her stomach yet again. She let Hook led her back to the bed, pushing her to lie down on it as he stared down at her.
Hook gazed up and down her body. He took in the curve of her waist and the swell of her breasts, long legs and arms that he ached to be wrapped in the embrace of. The soft, golden patch of curly hair between her thighs that tempted him to move on in and find relief. But he moved his gaze back up to meet hers. This was going to last. If he was to bring her into maturity, he would do it the right way.
Hook began to remove his shirt, when Tinker Bell sat up. She reached over and pushed it up for him and he sat next to her, raising his arms so that she could remove it completely. Once it was gone, he et her gaze rake over him, her fingers moving to trace old scars and the tattoo on his left arm before caressing his chest and torso, making him shudder beneath her hands.
Leaning over, he kissed her again, softly, slowly. His tongue languidly stroking hers, entering her mouth and tasting her. His hands pushed her back down and he moved to lie beside her. He angled his body so that his chest covered hers, both of them moaning slightly as his chest pressed against hers. Skin against skin, Hook reveled in the feel of her breasts pressed to him, her skin soft and smooth.
Tinker Bell writhed beneath Hook, wrapping her arms around his back and holding him to her tightly. She felt his hands wander down her sides, stroking her teasingly. His fingers made their way to her stomach, tracing circles across her skin before laying down flat and moving up to her breasts. She whimpered and arched up as he began to gently squeeze her breasts, fingers teasing.
She was at a loss of how to describe what she was feeling, what they were doing. All she knew was she was following instinct and his guide, listening to this desire running through her, seeking for the relief, the goal that would make it all die down and give her whatever it was she wanted.
Hook could feel Tinker Bell’s frustration, and he smiled as he moved his mouth down her neck to her collar bone. He let one of his hands stroke down her stomach, then over a thigh, back up, down the other. He grinned when her hips bucked. Finally allowing the hand down between her thighs, he was rewarded with a load moan and another bucking of her hips as his fingers stroked her.
She was wet and willing and driving Hook mad. He doubted he had ever felt this before. It was different now, there was more to it. Perhaps because he knew he was taking something no other man even knew existed, perhaps because it was because he had never taken a virgin before.
Perhaps it was because this time he truly cared for the woman in his arms, moaning and writhing beneath him. Maybe the fact that eh truly wanted this it mean something made it so much better than he had ever known.
“Trust me,” he whispered into Tinker Bell’s ear, and then he guided her hands to his breeches, making her fingers grasp the top of them. He pushed and she followed his lead, pushing them down past his hips, down his thighs, as far as she could. With a few swift movements, Hook was free of the pants and lying next to her, now equally nude.
Something told Tinker Bell to be frightened, but she was not. Not even when she felt Hook lying next to her, not even when she felt a part of him pressed against thigh. Not even when he kissed her and parted her legs so that he could move to rest between them did she feel fear. She knew something big was about to happen.
She spread her legs farther apart. She welcomed it. She wanted it.
Hook placed his hands on either side of her head, his gaze holding hers. Gently lying down, he held most of his own weight with his arms. He kissed her fiercely, his right hand moving to cradle the back of her head. “You should brace yourself, because I have heard this always hurts slightly the first time for women,” he told her, and she nodded, her eyes uncertain but so trusting. He smiled sadly, afraid he would loose that trust. As she wrapped her arms back around him, he thrust into her quickly, thinking it the best way.
Tink tightened her embrace, her body tensing at the sudden, slight pain she felt, but Hook’s mouth was again covering hers, his right hand holding her head up slightly, gently, and she let herself relax somewhat. The pain was already subsiding, and the liquid fire was once again dominating her senses.
As soon as Hook felt her hips buck up against his, he knew it was safe to move again. Slowly pulling out of her, he then thrust back into her, gently. He repeated the motion, once, twice, then began to move a bit faster. Still taking it slow, he steadily built up the pace. Her legs wrapped around him and he groaned as her position shifted slightly, changing the angle. He kissed her again, even as he felt his control start to ebb, the desire to grind into her even more fiercely growing stronger.
Now Tinker Bell knew why Hook had been so reluctant to let it get this far. She would never be the same again. When he had entered her, joining their bodies in a instinctive, exquisite way, he had taken something and changed something inside her. She would not be able to leave in the morning pretending nothing had happened.
Everything had changed. But for some reason, Tinker Bell found she felt no regret, no guilt, no concern for it. Hook may have been afraid she would despair at her loss, but all she felt was rapture at her gain.
Holding him tightly, Tinker Bell moaned as Hook nibbled on her earlobe before his mouth sucked at the skin below it, even as his hips rocked against hers. He thrust into her over and over and Tinker Bell knew that she was going somewhere, heading towards the goal, the feeling the liquid fire had been burning her for.
They were both so close, Hook knew it. So close to relief, to the edge. He sped up more, shifting his weight slightly and changing their position again, only slightly, but it was enough for him to stroke against a part of her that made her quiver and turn to liquid below him even as she tensed, gripping him desperately as a wordless cry escaped her lips.
Hook groaned, feeling her tighten around him, and suddenly he was there as well, in bliss, blind and deaf and dumb except for the final grunt of pleasure as he came inside her, at last spent. He collapsed on top of her, but quickly moved to lie on his back, pulling her to lie in top of him again.
They stayed silent, still letting the pleasure subside as it coursed through them in waves that faded out until finally they were left comfortably warm and sated.
“We can never go back now,” Hook whispered. “You and I, we are both different now.”
“Yes, we are,” Tinker Bell agreed. “But then, we were changing, already different to a certain extent. I wished for us to be normal for one night. And we were, are. Tomorrow everything that was known s normal here will be destroyed.”
Hook nodded. She was right. But the thing that struck him the most was the fact that she sounded almost glad. Accepting and welcoming of the change. He looked down at her, curled up next to him, her head and a hand lying on his chest.
“What of Pan?” he asked, reminding her of her true companion. The one she always returned to.
Tinker Bell sighed. “What of him? If he notices, then he notices and perhaps he discovers you. But he will never know, can never comprehend what happened. Neverland will most likely keep it hidden from him. He probably will not notice, even without Neverland’s help,” she informed him before yawning.
“I think you and I should rest, my dear,” he stated, feeling rather exhausted himself. He raised his right hand up, staring at it for a moment before reaching down to stroke her hair.
“I am sorry I cannot give it back permanently,” she whispered.
Hook smiled. “Actually, this is not what I am going to miss the most come sunrise,” he replied. “Not even close.”
Tinker Bell felt herself blush at his words, a small smile forming. “I think I know what you mean.” She sighed, listening to Hook’s heartbeat beneath her head. She knew that as tightly as she clung to him as tightly as he clung to her, at dawn everything would go back to how it was, without truly being how it once was.
“Get some sleep, my dear,” he told her, kissing her head gently. “Get some sleep.”
But they both knew they drifted off reluctantly. They both knew sleep would only bring dawn closer, quicker. And dawn would change everything back.
Back to Neverland’s version of normal. But Tinker Bell knew she and Hook would never return to their normal ever again.
- 1
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