Peter/Edmund fic
Title: (Series:‘I can’t sing a love song.’) Part 2: ‘I guess that’s why they call it the blues’
Pairing: Edmund/Peter, Peter POV
Rating: PG now…getting warmer…
Disclaimer: Fiction based on fiction, not mine, just playing!
Warnings: Trying to be fluff but probably turning into angst a little!
Summary: Peter reflects on his own state of mind
Notes: Dedicated to Richard Fleeshman, who has the most pant-wettingly gorgeous smile I have ever seen, except for maybe a certain Mr Moseley….
X-posted again, didn't wanna miss anyone!
First of all.. I have presents for you guys-thanks so much for the reviews!
The song that inspired part one: http://s28.yousendit.com/d.aspx?id=361I4NO4F8G001TEHBT29OULDZ
And part two: http://s28.yousendit.com/d.aspx?id=1OG2FH7ERQLWQ3R4LML8Y1EVAC
Just in case you were wondering, or don’t have them already!
Peter lay in his bed feeling sick. He had been trying to get to sleep for hours now, and his royal bedroom had rapidly turned into a prison, with shrinking walls that threatened to close in on him. All the silk sheets and satin nightshirts in the world wouldn’t get him to sleep now.
He knew the time had come in his life to make a decision. He had chosen tonight, the night of the royal ball to tell Edmund something that had been on his mind for a while now. Of course, he had messed it up, as he always did when trying to talk to his brother.
Maybe it was best that he’d never got to say how he felt, as Ed clearly didn’t feel the same way. Peter had gone straight to the refuge of his own room after the disastrous encounter, and was unsure what Ed had done next.
Things between them had been wrong for a while now. Peter had been so busy with the business of being a King, that he sometimes forgot there was another who shared that title. It never occurred to him that Edmund might help share the burden, may want more responsibility. Peter wanted to protect Edmund from everything and more than anything, he wanted to make him happy. He knew he would do anything for Edmund, had been quite happy that day on the battlefield to lay down his life for him. Peter remembered the surprise he had felt when it turned out that Edmund had almost laid down his life for him, and had shown Peter that maybe Edmund really did care as much about him, as he did for Edmund.
Peter hated his days without Edmund in them. His life had become so dull. It may have seemed exciting on the surface, all pomp and royalty. But really, being a King, turned out to be a job like any other. Peter often found himself staring into space and thinking about Edmund instead of working on territory agreements…couldn’t help picturing them having fun, laughing together…living…the way he wanted to.
Peter sighed, turned over yet again and buried his face in the pillow. He had been so sure that telling Edmund tonight had been the right thing to do…but he had never managed to get the words out. Edmund had looked almost scared of him. Had he misjudged the situation so badly? Had they grown so far apart that Edmund was totally lost to him?
Enough of this, Peter decided. He dragged himself out of bed, yanked open his chamber door, then started to tiptoe towards Edmund’s sleeping quarters. He found the other boy’s door was open, and he could see Edmund’s dark hair sticking out from the white silk covers. He looked sound asleep. Lucy had stuck her head around Peter’s door earlier, long enough to tell him that Edmund seemed drunk, and that maybe it was best to wait until morning before doing anything else. As if he had planned to anyway! It did make Peter wonder why Ed was so set on drowning his sorrows though…his heart ached to feel that Edmund had something bothering him, something he couldn’t come to his older brother about. There was a time when they had told each other everything…but Peter had broken that rule years ago, when he had started to have feelings about Edmund, feelings he has been to scared to share with him.
Edmund looked so peaceful, although would surely wake up feeling awful, Peter thought, smiling despite himself. In the old days, Peter would have taken great delight in teasing Edmund about drinking too much…but now, he didn’t know if he would be able to play those games. Edmund looked so small and fragile as he slept. Peter felt tears come into his eyes of frustration and longing. He wanted something so beautiful, so badly…could that really be wrong?
Peter edged closer into Edmund’s room, confident that the punch-induced-stupor would keep his brother unaware of everything going on around him. The boy’s messy mop of hair lay against the pillow. Peter longed to run his hands through the raven locks and feel the softness. The curve of Edmund’s cheek was a patchwork of delicate white skin and freckles. Peter wanted to kiss every inch of it, imagining how the pale skin might flush pink with pleasure. As he stood looking down at his brother, Peter couldn’t help picturing what it would be like to hold him in his arms, to feel what it was like to have that right, to embrace Edmund and know he wouldn’t pull away.
Peter felt despair come crashing down around him. He wished he didn’t have these feelings for Edmund. He wished he could look at Edmund without wanting him. Wished they go back to they way they used to be. For a moment, he wished this. Then Peter told himself that he wouldn’t give up what he felt for Ed for anything. He loved him, with his whole being. He didn’t want to wish that away. It had kept him going at times when he would have stumbled and fallen down, if it hadn’t been for his dream. A dream of a time when he and Edmund and could be together, in their own special, private world.
With these thoughts running through his mind, feeling some kind of peace mingle with his misery, Peter bent down to brush Edmund’s hair off his face tenderly. As Peter touched Edmund, Peter felt a shudder run through his body from his feet to the roots of his hair and shivered, despite the temperature of the balmy summer night. Peter could not resist pressing a kiss to Edmund’s warm skin, revelling in the sweet taste against his lips, memorising the feeling of it for moments when he would be alone and could not reach Edmund. Then, taking one last look at the sleeping boy, Peter crept out of the room, wondering if he would ever sleep again, if he would survive the night, and how he would face Ed the next day if he did….
TBC….!
Pairing: Edmund/Peter, Peter POV
Rating: PG now…getting warmer…
Disclaimer: Fiction based on fiction, not mine, just playing!
Warnings: Trying to be fluff but probably turning into angst a little!
Summary: Peter reflects on his own state of mind
Notes: Dedicated to Richard Fleeshman, who has the most pant-wettingly gorgeous smile I have ever seen, except for maybe a certain Mr Moseley….
X-posted again, didn't wanna miss anyone!
First of all.. I have presents for you guys-thanks so much for the reviews!
The song that inspired part one: http://s28.yousendit.com/d.aspx?id=361I4NO4F8G001TEHBT29OULDZ
And part two: http://s28.yousendit.com/d.aspx?id=1OG2FH7ERQLWQ3R4LML8Y1EVAC
Just in case you were wondering, or don’t have them already!
Peter lay in his bed feeling sick. He had been trying to get to sleep for hours now, and his royal bedroom had rapidly turned into a prison, with shrinking walls that threatened to close in on him. All the silk sheets and satin nightshirts in the world wouldn’t get him to sleep now.
He knew the time had come in his life to make a decision. He had chosen tonight, the night of the royal ball to tell Edmund something that had been on his mind for a while now. Of course, he had messed it up, as he always did when trying to talk to his brother.
Maybe it was best that he’d never got to say how he felt, as Ed clearly didn’t feel the same way. Peter had gone straight to the refuge of his own room after the disastrous encounter, and was unsure what Ed had done next.
Things between them had been wrong for a while now. Peter had been so busy with the business of being a King, that he sometimes forgot there was another who shared that title. It never occurred to him that Edmund might help share the burden, may want more responsibility. Peter wanted to protect Edmund from everything and more than anything, he wanted to make him happy. He knew he would do anything for Edmund, had been quite happy that day on the battlefield to lay down his life for him. Peter remembered the surprise he had felt when it turned out that Edmund had almost laid down his life for him, and had shown Peter that maybe Edmund really did care as much about him, as he did for Edmund.
Peter hated his days without Edmund in them. His life had become so dull. It may have seemed exciting on the surface, all pomp and royalty. But really, being a King, turned out to be a job like any other. Peter often found himself staring into space and thinking about Edmund instead of working on territory agreements…couldn’t help picturing them having fun, laughing together…living…the way he wanted to.
Peter sighed, turned over yet again and buried his face in the pillow. He had been so sure that telling Edmund tonight had been the right thing to do…but he had never managed to get the words out. Edmund had looked almost scared of him. Had he misjudged the situation so badly? Had they grown so far apart that Edmund was totally lost to him?
Enough of this, Peter decided. He dragged himself out of bed, yanked open his chamber door, then started to tiptoe towards Edmund’s sleeping quarters. He found the other boy’s door was open, and he could see Edmund’s dark hair sticking out from the white silk covers. He looked sound asleep. Lucy had stuck her head around Peter’s door earlier, long enough to tell him that Edmund seemed drunk, and that maybe it was best to wait until morning before doing anything else. As if he had planned to anyway! It did make Peter wonder why Ed was so set on drowning his sorrows though…his heart ached to feel that Edmund had something bothering him, something he couldn’t come to his older brother about. There was a time when they had told each other everything…but Peter had broken that rule years ago, when he had started to have feelings about Edmund, feelings he has been to scared to share with him.
Edmund looked so peaceful, although would surely wake up feeling awful, Peter thought, smiling despite himself. In the old days, Peter would have taken great delight in teasing Edmund about drinking too much…but now, he didn’t know if he would be able to play those games. Edmund looked so small and fragile as he slept. Peter felt tears come into his eyes of frustration and longing. He wanted something so beautiful, so badly…could that really be wrong?
Peter edged closer into Edmund’s room, confident that the punch-induced-stupor would keep his brother unaware of everything going on around him. The boy’s messy mop of hair lay against the pillow. Peter longed to run his hands through the raven locks and feel the softness. The curve of Edmund’s cheek was a patchwork of delicate white skin and freckles. Peter wanted to kiss every inch of it, imagining how the pale skin might flush pink with pleasure. As he stood looking down at his brother, Peter couldn’t help picturing what it would be like to hold him in his arms, to feel what it was like to have that right, to embrace Edmund and know he wouldn’t pull away.
Peter felt despair come crashing down around him. He wished he didn’t have these feelings for Edmund. He wished he could look at Edmund without wanting him. Wished they go back to they way they used to be. For a moment, he wished this. Then Peter told himself that he wouldn’t give up what he felt for Ed for anything. He loved him, with his whole being. He didn’t want to wish that away. It had kept him going at times when he would have stumbled and fallen down, if it hadn’t been for his dream. A dream of a time when he and Edmund and could be together, in their own special, private world.
With these thoughts running through his mind, feeling some kind of peace mingle with his misery, Peter bent down to brush Edmund’s hair off his face tenderly. As Peter touched Edmund, Peter felt a shudder run through his body from his feet to the roots of his hair and shivered, despite the temperature of the balmy summer night. Peter could not resist pressing a kiss to Edmund’s warm skin, revelling in the sweet taste against his lips, memorising the feeling of it for moments when he would be alone and could not reach Edmund. Then, taking one last look at the sleeping boy, Peter crept out of the room, wondering if he would ever sleep again, if he would survive the night, and how he would face Ed the next day if he did….
TBC….!