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They were in the middle of moving camp when it had happened.
Scattered around the campsite, the Lost Boys maneuvered around one another as they packed up all their belongings, Peter standing at the helm and directing them all. Henry sat off to the side, his face blank as he sulked, boredly doodling in the dirt with a stick. He could feel Peter’s gaze on him like it always seemed to be, and he had to resist the urge to turn and meet his eyes. Even through the crowd of the rambunctious boys, Peter was still able to narrow his attention on him somehow.
Although light now shined down from the sky, awkwardly spilling through the thick branches of the trees, Henry was still exhausted from the party Peter had thrown the night before in his honor. His limbs ached from the dancing he had done for hours and his mind was still foggy from it. It had been difficult waking up, but he had done it after grumbling for a moment or two.
Earlier, he had tried to help tear down their camp with the other boys, feeling closer to them now for some reason. Unfortunately, he didn’t really know how and got in the way more than he helped. It made him feel put out for a reason he couldn’t explain. He was finally feeling like he was starting to belong in Neverland, although he could’ve sworn that he hated it not to long ago, and he couldn’t decide which was worse…
Hating here or loving it.
A laugh startled him and Henry turned to see Peter standing behind him, staring down at the drawing Henry had done in the dirt. Looking back at it himself, Henry realized that he had unconsciously drawn Peter and the rest of the Lost Boys, but in the cartoon version he had watched as a child.
“What the bloody hell is that?” Peter questioned, quirking an eyebrow at Henry, but he could tell that no real malice lied in his words. If anything, Henry noted a bit of amusement, but Peter always spoke to him more gently than everyone else… He just didn’t know why.
“Oh, uhm…” Henry felt his face reddening, “Back home, everyone from the Enchanted Forest and even from here are told in fairytales…” He explained, his embarrassment growing, “Some are made into movies like you and the Lost Boys were, but you guys are portrayed nothing like you actually are.” He said, looking up to see Peter taking in all the information.
Since Peter seemed to know everything about Henry’s life, it wasn’t much of a surprise when he didn’t question what a movie was, but he did stare at the drawing for a moment before stating, “Please don’t tell me I’m the boy in the tights.” He said with disgust on his face, it twisted into a grimace.
Henry couldn’t help but let out a loud laugh, dropping his head as his shoulders shook, “Yeah.” He nodded, looking up with a grin, “You also have a fairy named Tinkerbell.” He said, noticing how Peter tensed at that, but only for a moment before rolling his eyes alongside Henry.
They remained silent for a few seconds after that, Henry’s face dropping again as he heard the Lost Boy’s shuffling behind him. He didn’t really know when he stopped hating participating in the activities the Lost Boys did and began being disappointed that he couldn’t help, even if it was simply cleaning.
Noticing the look, Peter gave Henry a reassuring smirk, “Don’t worry.” He began, Henry’s eyes darting up to meet his, “You’ll become one of us soon enough.” He chuckled darkly before turning and rejoining the mass.
Before, that statement would’ve made Henry angry or maybe even a bit worried because he had a family and didn’t need another one… But it was currently having a different effect on him now. Instead of enraging him, it made him feel excited. The longer he stayed in Neverland, the more he realized that he was like the Lost Boys; Confused and lonely.
Sighing, Henry looked down at the image he had drawn and stared at it. He couldn’t help but think how much easier it would be if the Neverland that Disney portrayed was the actual one and how much simpler it could be if Peter was as carefree as all the movies said. But he wasn’t, and Henry felt guilty for even imagining that. Despite the short time he had spent here, Henry realized that he would miss it if it wasn’t exactly what it was.
Henry had grown accustomed to Peter’s eyes always being on him and his reassuring words and demented nature. He had grown to know the recklessness of the Lost Boys actions, and despite knowing that his family was out there looking for him, he wasn’t too sure if he wanted to leave…
Shaking his head, Henry pushed the thoughts away. He knew that he couldn’t think like that. They had kidnapped him and were endangering his family. Even though Tamara and Greg had been rotten, they had killed them without a second thought. Just because they believed in him and wanted him here didn’t change those facts… But it was changing Henry’s mind.
A crashing sound broke Henry away from the dangerous territory his thoughts were headed and he turned to see that one of the Lost Boy’s had crashed into Peter, a broken pot crumbling from the boy’s hands. Green dust had spilled onto the front of Peter’s shirt and had billowed around him, beginning to swirl. The glow illuminated the Lost Boy’s fear and Peter’s anger, and it took a second for Henry to realize that it was Pixie Dust.
Peter opened his mouth to snap something, but the green dust began to travel, making everyone freeze in their spots. Even Peter’s eyes followed it as it weaved its way through the Lost Boys and headed towards a set destination. Henry thought it was going to avoid him too as it grew closer, but instead, it settled upon him, curling around him like it did with Pan.
The Pixie Dust was as beautiful as it was the first time Henry saw it, but in a different type of way. The last time he used it, it allowed him to soar through the sky with the stars as he floated through the air, the jungle below him as dark as the great above was. Right now though, it wasn’t lifting Henry up and he was able to actually look at it… He was able to absorb its beauty.
As he followed the translucent green trail, a small grin of amazement formed on his face, but it was cut short when he reached the end of the glow and Peter’s face was completely written with shock. His eyes were wide and his mouth hung open, and Henry didn’t know why.
Looking around, he realized that all the Lost Boys seemed to be surprised too. They all shared looks of confusion as an unusual silence settled upon them before Felix took the initiative and snickered from under his hood, the rest erupting into a fit of cackles once he did.
Irritation overcoming the bewilderment on Peter’s face, he shouted, “Shut up and get back to work!” He yelled, but his face was slightly tinted pink and he seemed flustered; a look Henry had never seen on him before.
The light faded as the Lost Boys continued to pack up camp, running across the glow and allowing the dust to disintegrate. Peter was avoiding Henry’s perplexed gaze, and no one stood still long enough for him to be able to ask what had just happened.
All he really knew was that he missed Peter’s eyes on him.
…
The journey to their new campground only took a few hours, but to Henry, it felt much longer. He was still confused about what exactly happened earlier, and no one was really telling him anything.
It was beginning to frustrate him.
Standing at their new campground, this time, Henry was able to help set up. Felix had taken him under his wing and showed him how to construct the campsite through solemn words and a hard face, but it made Henry happy none the less. He was tired of sitting around and doing nothing. He finally felt like a Lost Boy and he wanted to act like it.
But now that they were all set up, he found himself with nothing to do again. He usually at least had Peter pestering him with activities that, before, he wanted no part in, but he had been avoiding Henry since the Pixie Dust incident. It made him angry.
So, he sought out Peter the only way he knew how.
Looking around, Henry noticed the Lost Boys weren’t paying much attention to him, so he ducked behind the nearest tree and began wandering through the forest. The bottom of his jeans caught on twigs, tearing them even more, and he got swatted in the face more times than he’d like to admit, but after a few minutes, his plan was successful.
“And here I thought we were finally getting along.”
Rolling his eyes, Henry turned to see Peter leaning against a tree behind them, his arms crossed across his chest. He was staring at Henry in dark amusement, his head quirked to the side as his eyes traveled across Henry’s disheveled appearance.
Henry stared back unblinking, “And so was I, but then you started ignoring me.” He stated challengingly.
Peter didn’t seem surprised, but instead, rolled his light orbs and chuckled, “So you’re trying to run away because I haven’t talked to you a few hours?” He mocked, his eyebrows scrunching together as he took a step towards Henry, dry leaves crunching under his boots.
Quirking one of his own eyebrows, Henry made a face, “Please.” He chuckled, “I was just trying to find you and figured this would be the best way to do it.” Henry shrugged, refusing to back down. He had defiance burning in his eyes, and unknown to Henry, Peter loved it.
Narrowing his eyes, Peter said, “Well now that you got my attention…” He began before smirking, “Use it.” He said shortly, which bothered Henry. He cherished the fact that Peter was only, truly nice to him and now, he wasn’t acting like himself at all. He wasn’t straight out rude like he was to the Lost Boys, nor was he kind with a little bit of sarcasm like he usually was with Henry. That Pixie Dust incident must have meant something more than Henry could imagine.
Deciding not to play games since Peter only seemed to enjoy his own, Henry asked, “What happened with the Pixie Dust earlier?” He questioned, noticing how Peter tensed slightly and dropped his gaze.
“Nothing.” He said simply before turning, “Now I trust you know your way back to camp so-” Henry cut him off.
“No.” He stated firmly, “Tell me.” He demanded, stepping closer.
Rolling his eyes, Peter chuckled, “Really Henry. It was nothing.” He stated, widening his eyes slightly as he spoke, “Just some idiot Lost Boy who spilled some Pixie Dust.” He snorted.
“Then why have you’ve been avoiding me all day?” Henry questioned, quirking a challenging eyebrow - a bad habit he had picked up from Pan.
“I haven’t been avoiding you, I’ve just been busy.” Peter shrugged before slyly grinning, “Who would’ve known you cherished our time together so much?” He said sarcastically.
Ignoring the comment, Henry pleaded, “Please Peter. I’m already lied to enough back home when it comes to what’s going on most of the time.” He felt his face crumple, “Don’t lie to me too.” He begged.
Peter stared at him with a hard face for a moment before sighing, “Fine. You really want to know what’s going on?” He questioned harshly, “Pixie Dust is used for flying, but it can also be used to bring someone to their soul mate.” He stated, avoiding Henry’s gaze again.
It took a second for the words to process through Henry’s head, and he stilled seemed confused, “What does that have to do with – Oh.” He cut himself off, his eyes widening in realization, “Oh.” He repeated, his mouth dropping.
“Don’t be so melodramatic.” Peter snorted.
Peter Pan was Henry’s soul mate. Peter Pan was Henry’s soul mate.
Henry could feel the words encarving into his brain as they repeated over and over again, as if on a loop, but he still couldn’t wrap his head around it… It didn’t make any sense. The boy that had kidnapped him, the boy who had stolen him from his home, the boy that was endangering his family, was his soul mate… his happy ending.
His next thought instantly was that the Pixie Dust had to be wrong, but Henry wasn’t called the biggest believer for nothing, because he believed in magic and knew that the Pixie Dust couldn’t be. He knew that those green particles that floated through the air and gave off a beautiful, soft glow was one of the purest of magic’s and that it was never wrong.
Suddenly, Henry began to realize why he enjoyed Peter’s eyes on him and had missed them when they left... He began to understand why brushes of the skin made his heart speed up and what that feeling in his chest exactly was … He had denied it before, didn’t think it was possible, pushed it away without a second thought, but he was allowing himself to realize it now.
He was beginning to fall in love with his captor.
Henry’s cheeks began to tint as that thought ran through his head, and once it did, it refused to stop. It repeated itself like the earlier statement did, but instead of shock remained upon him, it caused a certain type of warmth to spread. He was beginning to fall in love with his captor, and he was perfectly okay with it.
Peter comforted in him, teased him, believed in him. He was kind to him and only him, and brought something to Henry he hadn’t felt in a long time. Fun.
Though as demented and twisted Peter was, there was still a boy somewhere inside him, one that was much like Henry. He had a course and rough shell that went on for layers, but he still had some good in him, and Henry liked him for all of it – good and bad.
A smile began to form on his lips, and Henry looked up at Peter and grinned. Peter simply quirked an eyebrow in questioned, obviously not expecting his elated look, but didn’t say anything. Henry probably would’ve discarded it like the last comment anyways.
Henry didn’t know what to say so he simply leaned up and pressed a quick, closed mouth kiss onto Peter’s lips, shocking the demented boy. Afterwards, when Henry had realized what he had done, his felt his face grow hot and his eyes widen.
Dropping his head to stare at his tatter shoes, Henry apologized, “I’m – uh, sorry…” He trailed off, looking guilty, “I – I don’t know what I was thinking…” He groaned, mentally berating himself as he shut his eyes.
Suddenly, Peter’s fingers were on Henry’s chin, tilting his face up and capturing his lips in another chaste kiss, holding him there longer than before and molding his mouth against his.
After Peter pulled back, Henry stared at him in surprise, but wasn’t surprised to see the usually smirk covering Peter’s face. Rolling his eyes, Henry swatted at him, but couldn’t keep a straight face for long. After a second of mock annoyance, Henry felt himself beam and his eyes felt like they brightened as well.
What was even better was that Henry saw an actual smile cross Peter’s face for a second before it adopted the slyness it always seemed to contain.
All Henry could think was thank god for faith, trust, and pixie dust, making him snicker to himself. Because he had needed all three to get to where he was right now, and maybe the movie wasn’t as wrong as he had originally thought…
But then again, maybe it was, because he didn’t see Peter wearing tights anytime in the future.