First night

Title: First night

Summary: Peter Pan doesn't remember many things, but he does remember this. After all, "You never forget your first". That's what they all say. Oneshot M rated because of reasons!

Timeline: AU, always AU. Because, seriously? You gotta be kidding me with the whole Rumple's father thing, come on.

Main Characters: Peter Pan, Wendy Darling

Disclaimer: I do not own OUAT, I do not, I do not!

Please, remember the M rating warning! ('Cause it does apply at some point!)

"You never forget your first."

He couldn't say what it had been.

Even now, now that he's getting used to it, to her.

To the warmness of her body against his, to the softness of her lips on his, to the weight of her in his arms, to her wetness on the tip of his fingers.

Now that he's getting used to the feeling of craving her. Like a howling beast craved blood.

He couldn't say what it had been.

He couldn't say how or why everything came to his mind in that moment, flowing fluidly into his brain like water rushing down a river.

They say memory worked in a funny way.

Maybe it was true.

It was getting late. The sky turning darker and the air getting chillier.

It was almost supper time.

The boys were gathering around, already hungry and ready to go down to the underground house. And he had lost sight of her almost all afternoon.

"Where is mother?" a little boy asks.

Pan is just about to inform everybody that he was going to collect their dear mother right away, when Tootles speaks up.

"I saw her earlier. She said she was going for a walk down the beach and she'd be back in time for dinner."

Pan presses his lips together tightly. His shoulders grow rigid out of sudden.

He isn't so greedy to come and get her himself anymore.

He is about to ask Slightly or Felix to go find her instead.

He just swallows.

Don't be silly, Peter.

After all this time?

It would be extremely silly, as she would say, a hint of knowing smile on her mouth and a twinkling light in her eyes.

I'll get her, he wants to say, but before he can think it twice, he's already heading off towards the beach, without adding anything else and leaving behind Tootles' and the other Lost Boys' puzzled faces.

The perpetual adolescence that his life had been before she came to the island, had been broken, shattered into pieces in one night.

Just one night by the beach.

Neverland's sky had never looked darker. (Peter Pan himself hadn't witnessed it looking blacker.)

With just one kiss, Peter Pan hadn't been Neverland's anymore.

He had been hers.

With pieces of white dress tore apart beneath his fingers and only the ocean's sound and her breathing in his ears, she had taken his childhood or whatever was left of it and made her hers.