Title: Peeping Pan
Author: Nevoreiel
Pairing: Hook/Pan (sort of)
Rating: R
Summary: Hook is not the only one with a strange obsession.
Disclaimer: All familiar characters and situations are Copyright by J. M. Barrie, Universal Studios, etc.
Warnings: Voyeurism.
Notes: Written for japanpetepan as she requested nymphomaniac!Peter and something a bit happier than my other tries. :)
Peter promises himself that it is positively the last time that he's going to hover near the open porthole that gives him a perfect view of Captain Hook's bed, the Captain himself sprawled on top of the sumptuous covers.
Sleeping seems to be Hook's other favorite hobby, only second to hunting Peter himself. And Peter is mesmerized by this slumbering man, hook and harness out of sight, devil eyes hidden beneath thin eyelids, and poisonous tongue heavy with sleep.
Peter watches as Hook twists and murmurs in his sleep, brows drawn in concentration, unharmed hand grasping at empty air. He watches as the hand constricts into a fist and Hook bolts upright, shouting, "Pan!" triumphantly. The first time Peter witnessed this, he'd been badly startled, but now it is just another fascinating aspect of Captain James Hook. No longer the hunter. No longer the one in control.
Shaking his head to clear the sleep away, hair tumbling around his face, Hook groans and plops back onto the bed. It is obvious that every time he dreams, he dreams he's captured the ever elusive Peter Pan. And each and every time he awakens to find it all to have been a grand fantasy.
As always, he sighs and slides his hand down to press against the bulge in his breeches. Peter has not quite figured out why that dream provokes such a response, but he's stopped caring once he'd had the mind to mimic Hook's actions.
He'd watched with open-mouthed awe as Hook undid the buttons holding the breeches together, slipping his hand under the parted cloth, sighing and twisting his hips just so. Peter had almost whimpered and given himself away.
Hook's eyes are closer tight, his ragged arm, looking naked without its harness, clutched to his chest. And Peter's gaze does not waver as he reaches into his own shorts, stifling a moan as he firms up at the lightest touch.
Biting his lip, Peter watches and moves his hand at the same pace as Hook is moving his, up and down in a steady rhythm. He feels the tension building and when he chances to catch a glimpse of the dark pink tip of Hook's cock squeezed between his fingers, Peter's insides quiver and melt and he empties into his hand.
In a daze, Peter watches as Hook's hand fumbles and he pushes his hips up into his tight grip, teeth bared in a growl, hissing Peter's name in the throes of passion.
Peter thoughtfully sucks on his bottom lip, leaving before Hook makes his way topside. He wonders what would happen if he let himself be captured. Would Hook do that in front of him? To him? But he'd rather just watch for now. He's not sure he's ready to be captured just yet.
End