Surrender

~300 words :: Peter Pan :: Hook/Peter :: 12/1/03
How can the boy be so confident with Hook’s hand tight around his throat? Why isn’t he crying, begging for mercy? Why is he always so damned cocky?


He has the boy at his mercy. Christ, how long has he waited for this moment?

Pan doesn’t look frightened, though. No, he looks smug, and it makes Hook all the more angry, makes him want to wipe that smirk right off his face. How can the boy be so confident with Hook’s hand tight around his throat? Why isn’t he crying, begging for mercy? Why is he always so damned cocky?

Hook tightens his grip, pressing Pan into the ground as he bends over him. He drags his hook down Peter’s chest. The boy’s not quite as unconcerned as he’d like Hook to believe; he’s breathing rapidly, heart beating right here under the cold, sharp, metal where Hook’s hand should by all rights be.

Pan’s eyes widen as the first blood is drawn, his mouth forming an O of surprise. Didn’t think I could do it, did you, boy? A shallow cut from heart to belly, and Hook leans down to lick it clean. What is it about your blood, boy, that’s kept you young so many years?

The only sound is the boy’s panting, and then a rustling as Hook cuts through the leaves that are Pan’s only clothing, exposing him to Hook’s lustful gaze. He laughs, a low, self-satisfied chuckle, and runs his hook up the underside of Pan’s erection. Like this, do you, boy? Hook’s own cock is aching, straining at the fabric of his trousers. “Do you surrender, Pan?” he murmurs.