Before he knew it, Peter had been staring at Captain Hook for all of thirty seconds. Indeed, this seemed to be a different man entirely than what he was used to seeing. The fog of sorrow that surrounded him made him really look like a man. Peter hated it, and yet it made him want to draw closer.
But Tinkerbell only became annoyed. Her chiming bell-like voice got his attention, and she scolded him before flying through the open window. Peter just tsked, immediately brushed it off, and followed her.
His bare feet met the wood flooring with a soft padding noise, water quickly spotting around him. He took down the hood, revealing his wet hair that looked almost brown from being soaked and dripping drops onto his collarbone.
A melodic laugh dripped from his tongue, too. “Well, this looks cozy enough.” His voice was deeper than he remembered. “What do you think, Tink?”
(sorry for the wait!)
The voice startled the pirate from his reverie, and he moved quickly to look at Peter, squinting at him for a long moment. James didn't seem overly…alarmed, to be honest. Then recognition flickered in his eyes, and he leaned back in his seat. He did not bother to stand, nor did he grab for his sword. He just stared at Peter, silent for a long, long moment, and then he finally spoke. "You have certainly grown, panpipes." the corner of his lip twitched in a faint smirk, gaze moving over Peter's body, taking in the young man standing before him. "Whatever happened to never growing up, hm?"
Despite the strangeness of this encounter, this interaction, James seemed perfectly comfortable and at ease, settled in his chair with his body relaxed and open. The only hint of any sort of defensiveness was the way his hook had shifted from lying flat to now pointed upwards, arm ready to slash out with it if necessary. Otherwise, he neither looked surprised nor threatened.
Peter looked around the room, inspecting its furnishings. He was a wild boy, but he could get used to this for one night. He focused on the captain and rolled his eyes, putting his hands on his hips.
“Shut your trap, codfish.” He shook himself, little droplets of water flying everywhere. Tinkerbell nearly missed being hit by one. When he stopped, he ran a hand through his hair. “Listen, I’m gonna need a place to stay for the night. I don’t see that rain letting up any time soon. Your little ship was the most convenient available shelter.”
James arched an eyebrow, gaze slowly moving over Peter again, taking in the changes to his enemy's body. "And why do you think I would allow you to stay here, hm?" he asked, finally moving to his feet in a movement that, despite the alcohol he had drunk, was still smooth and graceful and full of ease, hook glinting whenever it caught the light. "Why would I allow a grown-up boy to stay in my cabin? Have you forgotten our history, boy?" he put a slight emphasis on the word "boy", knowing that it would only make Peter angry. Knowing that that small dig was just a subtle way of calling attention to the fact that Peter was a boy no more.
“I don’t.” Peter studied his movements, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m just going to come back if you kick me out.”
He growled at the captain. “Shut up. Stop saying it like that.” He stepped forward, his arms falling to his sides and hands curling into fists.
(Dijdimfkm sorry it’s short. Also might have him act a bit extreme later idk)
(it's fine! And okay, sounds good :) )
"Then why are you asking," he paused for a long, long moment, then added, "boy." His mouth twitched in the faintest of smirks, leaning in towards Peter. He looked so much less formal here, in this settign, than he did when he and Peter normally faced off. This was a face off in his private quarters, after Peter had interrupted his private time. The white shirt, falling open at the collar, the dark slacks, and even barefoot. "And what are you going to do if I don't stop saying it, hm?"
Peter growled, baring his teeth at the captain. “This.” He rushed forward, bringing his hand up to lock onto the other man’s throat. He pinned him to the wall, getting right in his face. A raindrop was perched on the end of nose. His wet hair stuck to his cheeks in thin lines. His eyes were pierced with annoyance and frustration.
“I’ll just crush your throat so you can’t use that deep voice of yours,” he spat. “I don’t have time for this.”
(Lol Tink is just watching and getting out the popcorn)
(tink just like "damn free entertainment")
James stared at Peter, head tipping faintly to one side. "That deep voice of mine?" he echoed, a faint note of amusement in his voice. "And don't forget, boy, that you are the one asking me for a favor. It wouldn't be wise of you to threaten me." he didn't seem very worried about Peter's hand on his throat, he really didn't. He didn't seem at all worried that the grown-up boy had a hand on his throat. He even leaned his head forward very slightly, leaning in towards Peter with a faint smirk.
He said he didn’t have time, but really, he had all the time in the world. He just didn’t really feel like spending it like this. Peter growled, frustrated. Why should he? He let go of the captain, opting to just sit at the table. He took up all the space he could, leaning back and setting his feet on the table. “Maybe I shouldn’t ask you then.”
James wasn't going to lie that he had rather found the aggression a little attractive. Or, ah, he would have, had Peter not been his sworn mortal enemy. "Maybe you shouldn't, and get out of my ship." he jerked his chin towards the window, though his eyes never left where Peter was sitting at his table. "Then neither of us would be dealing with this conversation, now would we?" he cocked an eyebrow, taking a few steps towards teh table with a smirk flickering acrvoss his mouth.
Peter just scoffed, trying not to think about the inviting way the captain’s lips curved up. “Maybe I shouldn’t, and take what I want anyway. Isn’t that what you pirates do anyway? Take things without asking?” He retorted. He stretched himself out even more, staring James down.
"Ah, but aren't I the pirate here?" James stalked closer, looking down at Peter with a smirk still pulling at his mouth. His shirt was still falling open against his chest a little bit, the edges of his pecs visible to the eye. "And you are the little flying boy? I take things, and what… what do you do, Panpipes?"
Since his body was stretched out, Peter’s chlamys was raised up to reveal part of his midriff and the vines and leaves curling around his hips. His legs were on full display, of course. He tried not to stare too much at the captain’s chest, forcing his thoughts not to wander.
“Have you already forgotten the days when we raided the native villages, Codfish? We got plenty of loot from those trips.” He found himself grinning, despite the nervous heat in his cheeks now. But then, for some reason, the grin faded a little. Somehow James’s question made him very sad, and he hated it.
James' gaze raked over Peter, taking in the sight. He had been drinking, and he was a little tipsy, and Peter was…well, this adult version of Peter was lovely. "That doesn't make you a pirate, Peter." he replied, leaning on his hand on the table as he stared down at Peter. The other man was blushing. Interesting. He leaned closer. The pirate smelled of salt and the sea and a little bit like the alcohol he had been drinking before Peter came into his cabin.
“That’s not the point, James.” Peter could feel his heart quickening as the other man leaned closer. “The point is to take what I want.”
Of course, the sadness was still there, but the physical symptoms of his flustering added a layer of confusion to it all. What did he do? He was no longer the leader of the Lost Boys. He was an outcast, a wanderer… and god, was the captain’s scent inviting. And god, did he hate everything that he was feeling right now.
He tried glowering at James, still trying to take as much space as possible. He stretched out his body even more. “So, I’m going to stay here, no matter what you say—” As a result, the chair was flipped over and he fell to the ground with a yell.
"Is it?" he replied, watching as Peter fell, lips quirking into a faint little smirk. "You are, are you?" he replied, a low chuckle leaving him. "You think you're going to stay here? That I can't make you leave, Panpipes?" he was still leaning on the table, looking down at Peter with amusement glittering in those forget-me-not blue eyes of his. "Is that really a fight that you want to start?" it was interesting that James hadn't raised the alarm. He could have simply stepped to the door, opened it up, and brought his crew in to chase Peter out. But he hadn't.
He groaned and sat up. He shook his head, spraying water everywhere. Speaking of which, his chlamys was soaked. He stood up and pulled it over his head, revealing that he didn’t have much on underneath. He was used to not having much on at all really, so he didn’t realize how his grown body made things different. He put up the chair, setting the chlamys on it.
“Yes. I’m making myself at home, and you can’t stop me.” He stared back at the captain, the fall shaking the sadness out of him. “I don’t care that you have a whole crew out there, the rain hasn’t stopped, so I’m staying.”
James just watched, eyes glued to Peter as he removed the chlamys and revealed just how little the other man was wearing underneath. He took a few steps closer, leaning in towards Peter. He was taller than Peter, and with how close he stood, he towered over him just a little bit. "Mm… and why do you think I'll let that happen?" he asked, leaning over Peter, so close that they were very nearly touching. The only way out of the way was for Peter to sit down and put some space between them.
This was so strange. He was used to floating in the air to stay eye level with James, but now he doubted he could do that, or at least do it for long. “Because I don’t care. I’ll just stay here, and you have to deal with it.” He stared up at him defiantly, trying to keep his composure despite the blue eyes boring into him, the scent of the sea and alcohol pervading his senses, the way the captain’s chest moved slightly with each breath.
"What makes you think I won't kill you, hm?" James brought his hook up to rest against Peter's cheek in a movement that was half threatening and half…tender? From anyone else that touch would be the kind of thing a lover would do, the gentle cupping of a cheek that a lover would give. From James, with his hook, it seemed more of a threat than anything, the metal cold and harsh and unforgiving. "Why would you ever think you're safe here?"
Peter swallowed as he felt the cold metal on his warm cheek. He started to feel some aches from the earlier fall. It all slowed his mind down. “I…” his voice was softer now. “You know, I hadn’t even considered it. You could kill me right now, you know. But you’re not.”
Besides, maybe dying wouldn’t be so bad. Then again, the fact that he would die at the captain’s hands soured the idea. It would be so pathetic to spend all this time battling and evading his nemesis, only to now give in to fate when he was already at his lowest.
James cocked his head very faintly, still standing oh so close to Peter, their noses practically touching now with how close the captain was. "I could." he agreed, voice low and soft but still lined with that edge of cruelty that he had always had. He dragged the hook along Peter's cheek, though it didn't cut into his skin. But it was still there, right against the delicate skin of Peter's face. "I could kill you right here, Panpipes."
"But I could kill you too, James," he breathed. "I've got half a mind to." If the hook did cut into his cheek, he would run. Or at least, try to run. His heart was practically vibrating from the captain's close proximity, which he hated, but at least it gave him the adrenaline needed to move quickly.
"With what, Peter? What are you going to kill me with?" the hook slid along Peter's skin. The captain would never be so close if he hadn't had the stuff to drink. "I didn't see a dagger on you, and I'd love to see what you think you're going to kill me with." a smirk pulled across his mouth as he looked down at the other man. His dark curls hung down around his shoulders in soft strands, a few hanging into his face.
“My own bare hands, of course.” Why wasn’t he pushing the hook off of him? He should at least do that, to gain some sort of advantage. But instead, he found himself reaching up and twirling a dark lock of hair around his finger. He raised up his other hand too, for good measure. “Here they are. Are you satisfied?” He sneered.
James's gaze flickered faintly when Peter twirled a lock of hair around his finger. They were standing so close, and it was hard to deny that Peter had turned into, well, a rather attractive young man. But Peter was still his enemy. He could not forget that. Would never forget it, not when the hook against Peter's cheek was only there because Peter had cut it off. Could not forget it, when that scar across his throat came from Peter, too. "Of course I am not satisfied." he replied, dragging the tip of his hook lightly across Peter's cheek. From another man, with a flesh hand, it could have been a lover's caress. From James, it was a threat.
Something made Peter chuckle. He had slashed the captain many times, but actually putting his hands on him? He was almost excited, wanting to see what it felt like. He tried to ignore the more carnal aspect of that desire. The feeling of putting his hands on James’s throat was too fleeting.
“Why not, Codfish? It is bad form to attack an unarmed person, right?” He chuckled, yanking the lock of hair slightly just as James dragged his hook.
James narrowed his eyes, though he didn't respond otherwise to the yanking on that lock of hair. If this was anyone else, he would never have allowed them this close, unless they were a romantic and/or sexual partner. Peter was his enemy. Why was he allowing the other man this close to him? "Ah, but Panpipes, we are both unarmed." his sword was not belted at his side. It was not normally at his side when he was in his cabin. Instead, it was leaning against the closet, sheathed. He did not look towards it, since he knew that would only draw Peter's attention to it. "We are on even ground."
“Oh, I beg to differ!” He grinned widely. “I say that whenever this hook is attached to your body, you are armed. You said it yourself, you could kill me here and now. And what would you kill me with? Why, of course it would be that lovely hook you’ve got.”
He was so excited. For no reason. Why was he excited? Was it this closeness? Was it the possibility of a fight? Just the idea of putting his hands to Jame’s skin thrilled him.
