Title: Drunk? Who, Me?
Fandom: Narnia
Paringa : Peter / Caspian
Rating: R (OH YEAH!)
Warning: Slash, Fluff, King drunk
Number of Words: 1161
Disclaimers : Really, are not mine. I swear. I'm too straight in the book or the film because I created them.
Notes: OMG, blame lorooooh! * Indicates Overdose and Dark_Sidhe * are the ones who write to me by God and inspired by ECE's not my fault! Then these two wanted to get drunk, then saw that the rabbits in heat ... well, you get * u.รน But talks with the two genes are above * OCO I love you and then saw that there is a script I dedicate it because I have re-inspired Narnia. \u0026lt;3 If I can beat sucks.
Oh I forgot. There follow lol The "morning after" * giggles * sadistic
In an evening of celebration like that, with almost all of Narnia at Cair Paravel - then, for what occasion was no one really remembered, something related to Aslan for sure - and the wine brought by the bikers, it was normal that half of these were drunk, or still on track.
That the King were the two most adults, sitting against the wall in front of the apartments Caspian, where none of them would have gone to look for safe, with a half-empty bottle between them, was perhaps more worrying reading.
- What would you do if you kiss? -
Perhaps drunk was not the right word; completely drunk better reflect the situation.
Peter had just turned to the question put, slow alcohol. Caspian looked for a few seconds, as if he was recording the words just spoken.
- I would pull a punch - it was the final decision. He took a swig from the bottle and passed it, without haste, holding rests against the knee of the dark until he took it with thin fingers.
- Why? -
- Why do you keep calling me, that's why - it would have seemed too angry, if he had not had his eyes clouded by all that wine, and had not rested with those who will believe vehemently on hand to Caspian.
latter shrugged his shoulders but not moved, leaving it under the heat coming from the hand of the High Kings, which in effect at that time had little royal, with the blond head against the wall, eyes closed . It
brought the bottle to his lips - with a little 'too hard, perhaps - and, while enjoying this paradise liquid on the tongue, she felt a trickle down along the throat teasing, caressing the skin.
If he decided to take him away, he should put down the bottle or move his hand still stuck under that of Peter. She left him where he was.
down, down and down - followed him with what little concentration that was not dedicated to the softness and warmth of her hand on her - until he was suddenly stopped.
With excruciating slowness, millimeter by millimeter by millimeter, Peter was doing the thumb with the red trail, the other fingers resting casually against his throat, on, on and on, until you reach the mouth, touching her skin as if with a higher pressure would could break something.
Caspian stared with to look, what I was able to nail it in place making him forget how to breathe. She looked at him, not his hand nor any point of the corridor, no, it was aimed straight in the eye, like a hunter, and then he his fingers linger a few more seconds on that pair of soft lips, wet with wine . He broke
contact at a time, and Caspian felt all the air suddenly come back into the lungs, and he used an enormous effort of will not to pant like a man who finally emerges from the sea surface after having been afraid of drowning, and return to focus on Peter, who was bringing the wine-stained finger to his lips, licking away completely. It was absolutely
the most sensual thing he had ever seen. Sure.
The next moment he was standing - do not stop, had some slight problem with gravity, but he could manage it - and he was reaching for Peter, sitting next to bottle dropped on the floor, and Caspian could have sworn that the setting was really bad. The bottle, not Peter.
He was limited to team with a certain sparkle that little voice in his head told him to ignore with a drawl. In fact, he ignored it.
- I do not bend down to get their hands if that's what you know -
puff of laughter.
- You will need to work on the gallantry, Caspian expensive, or all women of Narnia you will avoid like the plague -
But he got up just enough to grab your hand and be dragged to his feet. For
then systematically fall like a sack of flour on Caspian, pushing weight and making them both land - or more precisely, the shoulders of the High Gross Weight Telmarines with adjoining King, who's almost takes your breath away, landed - on the door of his rooms with a beautiful sound that will surely crash until they had heard in England.
They stood a moment to catch your breath, waiting for the silence rimettesse the pieces together and come back on the corridor.
- If I were you ... - A grunt is not very friendly from the parts of his sternum caused him to correct - you, all right, you. If I were you reflect on those lessons gallantly, I might not be the only one that would be useful -
This time the laughter came from slightly up toward the throat, where they were apparently supported a great pair of lips, red as the wine a little earlier.
Peter's breath tickled him, and only and only then realized that - toh - was trapped in his arms, abandoned on the wooden door on the side of his head.
But, in retrospect, that warm breath was not so annoying on his Adam's apple, almost did not hear him anymore.
He looked up and met a couple of blue oceans on its own line of sight, just covered by the longest lashes he had ever met, and - but who sees! - The hot breath on his lips this time directly.
Ah.
The aforementioned Adam's apple had a moment of panic as he went on, was temporarily replaced by his heart, which seemed to have every intention to stifle it.
- But you did not have to kiss me? -
Well in fact, was what he had said. He was a man true to his words.
So, put very little on those soft lips in front of him was the most logical conclusion. A handful of seconds, just long enough for a brain confounded by alcohol record information, and those same lips parted invading it, producing both a noisy hybrid between a groan and a sigh that echoed loudly in the corridor.
Peter went even further to the other, crushing the little air that still remained between them and making them join as two opposite poles of a magnet, allowing the Caspian around her waist with his arms, fighting hard for find the right angle.
One of the hands the first trapping went to tangle with his black hair, stroking and pushing it more towards the mouth of the other at the same time - as they were already practically fused with each other -
There was a single moment when the wind was to shoot a lot, where they looked into his eyes, fixed, his cheeks flushed and her eyes wide. Take a breath in spurts, with shortness of breath, exchanging the air.
- I can go. Tell and I'll be out of this corridor before you can breathe -
was a possibility? He left so?
He said that Peter would, on the one hand, wanted to hear, so as to live with regret, but in the right side of the light?
Yes Please, go away.
- No. It is -
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