Getting some Rest

Wendy swallowed until Tink's rectum was emptied again. She coughed, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, her eyes wide and watery. She tasted salt, musk, and the undeniable proof of Tinkerbell’s claim over me. She looked at the fairy, who was currently buttoning her stolen pirate shirt with a smug, satisfied air, and didn't find anger. Instead, I saw a strange sort of relief in Wendy's eyes. The ambiguity was gone. The "game" Peter had played, **** her to play along, the endless pretending, the undefined roles were over. She knew exactly where she stood now.

"You swallowed, what a good girl you are," Tink teased, helping Wendy sit up. "That's rule number one. We don't waste."

"It tasted... bitter," Wendy whispered, her voice hoarse. "And strong."

"It's the taste of authority," I said, standing up and brushing the sand from my legs. I offered a hand to each of them. Tink took my left, Wendy took my right. "The night is over. We return to the Tree."

We walked back through the jungle. The island felt different now. Before, the silence had been heavy and threatening, a held breath waiting for a scream. Now, the silence was peaceful. The crickets chirped a steady rhythm. The moss-lanterns glowed warmly. Even the trees seemed to bow slightly as we passed, acknowledging the presence of the Keyblade Master and his girls.

Wendy walked with a limp, her body sore and stretched from the night’s lesson, but she didn't complain. She leaned into my arm, drawing strength from my frame. "The Lost Boys," she murmured, looking at the empty undergrowth. "They're really gone?"

"They went to sleep a long time ago," I said gently. "The Shadows were just nightmares left behind. You’re the only one who woke up."

We reached the Hangman's Tree. We climbed up to the Captain's Quarters. The room was warm, smelling of the lingering scent of our earlier coupling and the fresh night air drifting in through the root-windows.

"Bedtime," Tink announced, yawning. She fluttered her wings, shaking off the last of the sand.

She climbed onto the massive bed, crawling straight to the center. She patted the spot next to her, looking at me. "Master sleeps here. I sleep on Master."

I lay down. The mattress, stuffed with feathers and stolen silks, sank under my weight. Tink immediately curled up on my chest, her favorite spot. She nestled her head under my chin, throwing a leg over my waist to pin me down. She was a heavy, warm blanket of affection.

Wendy stood by the door, unsure. She hugged her thin arms, looking at the bed. "Where do I...?"

"You're part of the hoard now, Bird," Tink mumbled into my shirt, her eyes already closing. "Get in. But stay at the bottom. Or the side."

Wendy looked at me for confirmation. I nodded, lifting the velvet fur throw on my other side. "Come here, Wendy."

She crept forward. She climbed into the bed, but she didn't dare take the pillow next to mine. She curled up against my side, resting her head on my shoulder, careful not to disturb Tink. She pressed her back against my arm, seeking the heat.

"Is this... is this how grown-ups sleep?" she whispered into the darkness.

"It's how we sleep," I murmured. My hand moved from her hip, sliding up her ribcage. I cupped her left breast—small, firm, and warm. I began to knead the soft flesh, a slow, rhythmic motion that I found relaxing. Wendy let out a long, shaky breath, the tension leaving her frame as she melted against my side. "That... that helps," she whispered, leaning into the touch.

The room fell quiet. The rhythmic breathing of the two women synced with the pulse of the island. Tink shifted, her hand sliding down to rest possessively over my heart. "Master?" she whispered, halfway to dreamland.

"Hmm?"

"My wings..." she murmured sleepily. "They feel too small for this body. I feel so heavy now. Like an anchor."

"Is that bad?"

"No," she decided, snuggling closer, burying her nose in my neck. "It’s good. If I'm heavy, I can't float away from you. I'm stuck right here." She let out a soft giggle. "Besides... now I know why Wendy never flew. It takes a lot of effort to lift a woman."

"I don't mind," Wendy’s soft voice came from my shoulder, vibrating slightly as I continued to massage her breast. "I like the ground. It doesn't move. And he's here."

I lay there, staring up at the wooden ceiling of the root-chamber. I had come to this world to purge the darkness, to fix a broken timeline. I had done that. But I had done more. I had turned a very sassy Pixie into an affectionate lover and a doll into a submissive apprentice. I had taken the innocence of Neverland and matured it.

Tink let out a soft snore, a tiny bzzzt sound. Wendy sighed, her hand tightening on my bicep.

I closed my eyes. The war was over. At least in this world. And with that, I knew, I had to leave soon.