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“Jack, it’s freezing in here!”
Jack’s stomach dropped, though he smiled regardless.
“Sorry kiddo can’t really help that…” He was quiet for a moment. “Hey, why don’t I come back tomorrow when it’s not as dark and I make it colder? You can keep telling me about that person in your class you like!”
Jamie’s cheeks turned a light pink, but he nodded and smiled softly, yawning despite himself.
Jack ruffled his hair and flew out the window, staff in hand.
It had been five years since Pitch had tried to take over, five years since people started to be able to see him. It was a gradual process, only the few children being able to at first. But now, children on every continent can see. It’s still not as many people who believe in the Easter Bunny or the Tooth Fairy, or Santa Clause for that matter. But still, somehow what with people being able to see him, he felt lonelier than ever, and he couldn’t figure out why.
It wasn’t the first time he’s had to leave Jaime’s house, or displace himself from someone because they were getting too cold; it wasn’t exactly every day of his life that he sat inside. He was more of the outdoorsy type of spirit. Nonetheless, Jack hated it. He couldn’t stay anywhere for too long for fear of giving Jamie a cold, when they were inside. And it was hard enough to have anyone touch him.
Jack didn’t get cold, his blood didn’t circulate, his heart didn’t beat; he was as cold as a marble statue, with his skin being so pale it was nearly transparent. He had long forgotten what it was like to be warm. There were a few times when Jamie hugged him and he could feel the warmth. Jack melted every time they did. But it would only last a few seconds. Jamie would get cold and pull back, his face would always be flushed because of the sudden change in his body temperature.
Jack sighed openly, resting his feet by his pond. It was late; he knew Sandy would be elsewhere tending to the children giving them good dreams, possibly in another country too. It was hard seeing and talking to either Sandman or Toothania. Tooth always worked year-round, 24/7 collecting the teeth and memories. It was hard trying to talk to any of the other guardians about what he was feeling so he more often than not found himself talking aloud on nights like this; perhaps Manny was listening?
“I got too cold again tonight. Jamie didn’t even hug me. I know I said I wanted people to see me, but now, it’s still lonely. The other guardians don’t’ understand. They’re not supposed to be seen by the children, but I play with them. I see them, I feel them! People are so warm. Sometimes I try to remember what it feels like to have someone wrap their arms around you and just hold you there, protecting you.” Jack had sat down at the bank now, his feet resting on the frozen surface, his staff sitting on the ground beside him. He pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, his head down, hugging himself. A large breath emptied from the boy.
“So greedy, aren’t we, Jack?” A silky voice whispered from the shadows. “First you want people to see you, and then you want your memories. Now you want to feel warmth.” Jack jumped up, immediately determining who the voice belonged to; his staff at the ready. “When will you be happy with what you have?” The voice mocked him.
“Pitch.” Jack said steadily, looking around the area. As if on cue, the tall, lanky shadow king stepped out from the blackness, making his presence known. “What do you want.” It was more of a statement.
“You are always talking to yourself here, almost every night it seems. I just thought maybe someone could help you?” A smirk played across his lips. Jack just tensed.
“H-how could you help me?” Jack faltered for half a second, his gaze never leaving the Nightmare King’s face. Pitch was still smirking, his hands behind his back in his classic pose. His hands came up after a moment in defense, his smile widening.
“I’m not going to hurt you, Jack. Unless that’s what you ask for.”
Jack didn’t exactly understand, he was just trying to figure out what to do. He was vulnerable right now, not in the right mind state. He felt small, his crook dipping just the slightest. “What are you getting at, Pitch. I don’t want to play your games.”
Pitch chuckled darkly. “My, my. The guardian of fun not wanting to play games? How contradicting.” There was condescension in his voice. Jack just rolled his eyes and began to turn around. In an instant, Pitch was behind him, his hands on Jack’s arms his lips to the forever boys’ ear. “You want to feel warmth, I can make you feel fire.” He whispered silkily. Jack’s eyes flickered, his head trying to pick apart the words.
“How?” Jack turned to face the man behind him.
Pitch smirked devilishly as the shadows engulfed them both, pulling them away from the Moon’s prying eye.
Once the shadows depleted, the two spirits were in Pitch’s lair. Jack had been here several times before only this time it looked different. The cages hanging from the ceiling didn’t appear ominous or threatening this time as they lay empty. The globe in the center of the area was still blinking little golden lights; some of them were for him.
“They believe in you now, don’t they?” Pitch asked quietly. “The way you want them to.” Jack nodded slowly.
There was sympathy in the winter boys’ eyes. He knew what Pitch was feeling; the need to be seen, to be believed in. For those 300 years when Jack didn’t know he had a past, didn’t think there was more to his being, no one saw him, no one could hear him, or feel him. Pitch had had a taste of power during the Dark Ages but it was fleeting; then again when he tried to take over recently. But in the end, good always won and fear was snuffed out by the light.
The shadow man sighed, pulling jack from his thoughts.
“What am I doing here, Pitch?” the boy asked steadily.
The man chuckled. “Feeling fire,” he answered in his deep, velvet voice.
There was something about him that was so inviting, so appealing. Maybe Jack was enthralled by it so that he just didn’t know what was going on; at least, that’s what he tells himself every time he goes back.
“And how do you plan on going abo-“ He was cut short. In an instance Pitch’s lips were covering Jack’s, halting further speech.
Jack wanted to push him off, to tell him he was crazy and fly off. But he was so warm.
The moment their lips touched, Jack felt it emanating across their figures, the temperatures fighting for dominance as their tongues did as well.
Part of Jack went into auto pilot, his hands going up to push Pitch away. But as soon as his palms made contact on the taller man’s chest, they stayed there. The heat was more intense here. Jack had never felt him before or anyone besides the few children who risked giving him a hug or Jamie who could only stand around him for so long.
“You’re so warm.” Was all Jack managed to choke out. He pulled away trying to figure out if he should continue or how wrong it would be to continue.
“They can’t see you down here; none of them. Not even the Man on the Moon can see.” Pitch whispered reassuringly.
Jack’s eyes widened in the slightest as his decision had just been made inside his head. He looked down at his hands, noticing they still adorned Pitch’s chest, his crook discarded elsewhere earlier. “I want to feel…” he looked away, hiding his blue blush.
“Hmm? Say it out loud, Jack.” Pitch taunted, his lips curling into a knowing grin.
“Skin.” Jack breathed, their eyes meeting.
Pitch was on him again, his lips devouring the smaller ones below.
Jack raised his arms above his head as Pitch played with the hem of his sweater. Breaking kiss for only a second to lift free the garment, Jack was left bare chested. Pitch’s eyes gleamed, drinking in the pale boy below. He licked his lips and Jack blushed a deep blue again.
“Yours…” He made small pawing movements against Pitch’s chest. The dark man chuckled and complied, ridding his figure of the floor length cloak. Both men stood clad only in their bottoms.
Jack hadn’t replaced his hands to Pitch’s chest just yet. His eyes danced across the figure. The cuts and scars that littered the front of his chest and arms caught the boys attention. Jack had the sudden urge to want to lick at them and see what it was like; his tongue darting out to wet his lips quickly. He opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out. Taking a small step forward, the frost spirit ghosted kisses along the dark figures chest.
Pitch hissed, Jack pulling away and looking down.
“All-all I can do is keep you cold.” He whispered.
Something inside Pitch twisted. His eyes falling in sympathy. They both needed this; to be felt, to be believed in by someone else, if only fleetingly.
Pitch wrapped his arms around Jacks shoulders, planting light kisses to his ear and side of his neck.
“Then,” he paused, nipping at the immortal boy’s ear lobe. “I’ll keep you warm.”
Jack melted. That was all he needed to hear to keep him in place, to keep him coming back. He turned in the man’s arms, relaxing into his lips.
The shadows danced around their bodies once more. They fell into the darkness, poking back out inside a room. Jack breathed for a moment as Pitch was busy working on his neck as well as his belt. The latter being off in seconds and on the floor somewhere.
“Where-?” Jack drew a sharp breath. Pitch bit down, hard. “Ahh, Pitch, don’t stop.” The boy’s fingers wound their way into the Nightmare Kings hair pulling gently.
Pitch smirked pulling away slightly, “As soon as the prying eyes are away, the hands will come out to play.” Jack let out a small growl from his throat, fueling the fire.
Looking around very briefly Jack noticed they had materialized in a room. There were hanging lanterns and a bed in the corner. It was a large, glorious black bed that looked as if it had never been slept on.
Pulling his attention back to the man ravaging his neck and chest, Jack bit at his ear tugging the black spiked hair again.
Pitch wove his arms around the boy’s middle, lifting him with ease. Jack took the opportunity to wrap his legs around the others waist, steadying himself. Their lips met in a game of fire and ice, seeing which could extinguish first.
With the intention of dropping Jack on the bed, Pitch let most of Jacks weight fall from him. Though the plan didn’t work out as well as he hoped considered Jack had been holding on to him, thus succeeding in pulling the both of them down to the bed.
Pitch winced as they hit the covers and Jack noticed fully, pulling away terrified.
“Did I-?”
“No, you’re fine.” There was a brief moment of silence as Pitch attempted to adjust himself. “I’m not exceedingly used to being on the top side of the bed is all.”
Jack couldn’t help it, he burst out into fits of laughter. Clutching his stomach he rolled towards the opposite side of the bed that was pushed against the wall.
Pitch snarled. “Think that’s funny, Frost!”
“No, no! Just…” He stopped for a moment to find the right word. “Fitting.”
Jack sat up, his body floating over to Pitch’s slumped form, his back now to him. He placed his hands on the man’s shoulders, trying not to react to the visible tension Pitch took on at the gesture. Under his hands the skin was so warm, so inviting. Jack leaned down, his lips going to the soft skin. What started out as a sensual kiss turned into a molestation of the man’s collarbone.
Pitch moaned lightly turning around and bringing his hands to Jack’s sides cautiously. Jack hissed, feeling a burning sensation.
Pitch smiled. “Don’t worry Jack, you’re not going to melt. Yet.” Pitch pulled the boy’s pants off now and they joined the belt that was discarded on the floor somewhere. Jack’s organ sprang out of its chokehold and to life. “Look how happy you are to see me Jack.” His vice was so smooth and velvety, something inside Jack wondered if his mouth felt that way too.
“Suck…” Jack moaned.
“I’ve not even placed a finger on you and you’re demanding the upper hand?”
Pitch gazed up to the smaller boy who was lying, shivering on the bed. Their eyes met and a shudder ran down Pitch’s spine; the boys glazed look springing him to life.
Without hesitation he obeyed the orders, his mouth wrapping around Jack’s cock.
“Mhh.” He moaned at the sensation of the temperatures clashing. Jack couldn’t help it either, his hips bucking. He needed to feel more of the warmth.
Pitch grinned against him, Jack could feel it. “Pitch, more.”
The black hair bobbed up and down, Jack’s hand going to rest lightly atop the head with his fingers curling when Pitch took him all the way down.
Jack choked, his body leaping up. His fingertips tingled as they melded into the hair below, trying to push down ever so slightly.
The underside of Pitch’s tongue made its way from the bottom of the cold shaft to the head, resting delicately at the top and licking at the slit before moving his mouth away completely. Jack groaned and fell back onto the bed. He was already feeling spent.
Pitch chuckled, moving his way up the boy, kissing every inch of him along the way. Jack could feel every little kiss, every time Pitch let his tongue slip between his lips and poke at the winter spirit’s skin. A soft moan escaped him each time and by the time Pitch reached his neck, Jack was completely out of breath and panting like he had just flown from Russia to New York in a moment.
“If you’re this out of breath now, Jack, just wait until I’m inside of you. You’ll positively suffocate from the heat.” Pitch breathed against the boy’s ear, a whimper of excitement escaped the smaller’s lips.
Jack brought his hands up to Pitch’s shoulders, tendrils of frost coming to cover like delicate lace. Pitch groaned lightly at the touch, his eyes falling shut when the icy curls coated his skin. It took mere moments for them to turn into water droplets against him, Jack becoming fascinated at how fast his ice melted against the older spirit. The taller man’s hands rested on either side of Jack’s head, Pitch’s head dipping down to lay on the cold shoulder, relaxing him.
“Jaaackk,” Pitch drew out his name. “I want to take you, Jack. Now.”
Jack arched his back up, moaning at the statement, his thoughts racing. “Wait,” he breathed against Pitch’s ear. The older’s face stole a quizzical look and Jack took the opportunity to turn them around, not without a little force. Jack, now sitting atop finally felt the complete hardness of the other. His eyes went wide with understanding and he ground his hips down harshly, his head thrown back, lips slightly ajar. Pitch sucked in a breath, his hands gripping at the hips. He growled with his eyes fixing on Jack, a small grin on the boy’s face.
“Don’t go getting a big head now, boy.” Pitch rumbled. He racked his nails across Jack’s thighs, holding tightly to the inside muscles.
“I seem to be the one on top at the moment.” Jack ground his hips down again, earning a moan from the man below. He took his hands and ran them across Pitch’s chest. Small curls of frost covered bits of skin; the man sucked in air and held tightly to the covers. “I’m-“
“Don’t you dare apologise, Frost.” Pitch made a snarl. He shot up, Jack now sitting on his lap. “I never said I didn’t like it.” His hands holding at Jack’s back, moving to kiss the boy furiously.
Jack’s fingertips ghosted over the scars on the taller man, his frost playing ‘connect-the-dots’ with the cuts. He broke the kiss and leaned down to place his lips against the closest scar, blowing gently on it first then darting his tongue out testingly. Pitch gave a reaction akin to pleasure; Jack smiled.
“I cannot toy any longer, Frost.”
“Can I… Can I touch you?” Jack whispered, his arms wrapping around Pitch’s neck as he buried his face into the crook of his neck.
“Please.” Pitch breathed after a moment, his hands clawing at the boys back.
Jack sat back, looking at the Nightmare King for a brief moment before moving to rid the last piece of clothing between the two. Pitch inhaled as he was finally able to release some tension, the restraint on his member lifting.
Jack’s fingers came up tentatively, touching, exploring lightly. Pitch’s back connected with the bed then, his chest heaving and catching when Jack took him in his hand. It was a different sensation than the man had ever felt. It was cold, but not necessarily a bad cold, or uncomfortable cold. But he could definitely see how humans would be affected crossly about it. Then he gave way to a blank mind; Jack licked at the tip. He experimentally took the head into his mouth, his tongue lazily gliding over the sides and underneath.
The boy was terrified the entire time, watching for the little signs he had begun to notice around the children when they were getting too cold. A pained look came across his face when Pitch's hands came up and stopped Jack from moving any more, his lips just off of the organ. Pitch quickly took notice, speaking softly. “If you keep this up, I’ll not last much longer, Jack.” The look in the boy’s eye glinting after a second of deliberation. “I would like to try that again sometime when I don’t have the kneading desire to burry myself within you.” Jack made a small noise, his cheeks lighting up. “Turn around.” Pitch was suddenly serious. “On your knees, Frost.”
Jack nodded and Pitch was graced with a view of the winter spirit from behind, he looked even more beholding than before. “Relax. And just keep breathing.” He rubbed circles around the white rear, his fingertips reaching between the two, Jack tensed immediately. “Relax.” Pitch cooed.
Jack felt something slither up his leg, his knees shivering. He felt his behind being spread lightly, the slithering not stopping until it rounded his opening. “Pitch-“
“Hush, now.” He rubbed at the spirit’s back, heat making its way to every inch of Jack’s figure.
The boy’s elbows buckled, his head falling to the bed. His legs spread themselves slightly and the intrusion thrust itself into him. Jack’s breath caught, “What is,” his voice shook. “What is that.” Jack whimpered.
“One of the many things I can do. It will make it feel better, I promise Jack.”
As shadows wrapped around Jack’s legs, winding their way toward the first one, they pushed in and out of him. Jack was biting his lip, trying to hold in noises as they spilled out of the sides of his lips. Slowly, Pitch's finger came towards the opening. The shadows slowed, almost parting for their master as he inserted one finger into the boy below, tracing small circles inside of him. After a moment of continuous stimulation, Pitch added a second, his second hand not daring to leave the other’s back.
Jack arched again, pushing himself backwards to meet Pitch’s fingers as they entered him agonisingly slow; he needed more friction. “Please, Pitch. More…” Jack sobbed. “I need you in me.”
“I am in you, Jack.” Pitch wiggled his two fingers as proof. “Be more specific.” Jack could hear the smile the man was giving him from above.
“Please, please. I can’t. Please, Pitch.”
The shadows curled around Jack’s front, gliding over the winter spirit’s cock, Jack let out a whine, his body shaking forward. “Jack, what do you want?”
“Please Pitch, please.”
“’Please’ what?” The Nightmare King was highly amused now; he liked having the upper hand with the boy. Though he was beginning to notice that it was becoming unbearable to keep toying with the other.
Jack chocked on a sob, the shadows still only just touching him where he wanted it. He rocked back on the fingers inside him, trying to push them deeper, further.
“It’s still going to hurt if you wait a little longer.” Pitch cooed into the boy’s ear.
“I don’t care-“ Jack mumbled into the fluffy duvet like cover.
Pitch’s sigh rumbled low all through his body, he didn’t want to wait any more either. Deciding that the only way to learn is with firsthand knowledge, Pitch readied them both. His hand went down to his own cock, stroking it gently and moving the precome over the length. One of his hands moved to grip Jack’s thigh, holding them both steady; the other guiding himself towards the open and waiting figure in front of him. “Take a breath Jack, and try not to tense up too much.” Pitch spoke.
Pitch moved himself forward just the slightest, the tip rubbing circles around the opening. Jack ground his teeth down, torn between wanting to fall backwards in an instant, and wondering just how bad this was going to be. He is the one that stayed after all.
Slowly the man inched his way in, trying to keep from moving too fast. He sucked in air, the tightest swallowing him almost uncontrollably.
Jack’s body shook, his eyes prickling. He buried his face into the cover and gripped the sheets, his knuckles turning somehow whiter than they were already.
“Jaaacck.” The boy’s eyes shot open when Pitch drew out his name and in one swift motion the man thrust himself as deep into the body as he could go.
“Ahh!” Jack chocked out a cry, his body becoming numb, searing with pain. Pitch stilled himself then, waiting for him to become adjusted. His hands traced shaped over the pale skin below.
Jack grunted lowly. “Pitch,” he groaned unevenly. He was beginning to feel himself slowly slowly getting used to the man inside him. He could feel the heat radiating with him, making its way to ever muscle, every limb Jack had. The boy moaned loudly at the feeling, rocking himself forward just slightly and then back.
Pitch hissed, his fingertips digging into the soft skin underneath. He pulled himself gently, Jack whimpering the entire time. As Pitch tried to pull out more, Jack fought to move his body backwards, not wanting to lose the warmth. The older man gave a chuckle in understanding and shoved himself back in hard and fast. Jack screeched, his hands pulling at the sheets. Pitch didn’t let up, he did it again and again, finding a rhythm after long.
Jack was beginning to feel it. It felt so hot, so good, so protective. He couldn’t understand how he was getting this feeling from the Nightmare King when not long ago he was fighting the very same man, trying to save the children from his evil reign. But he could care less right now. In this instant, he was on fire. Every fiber of his being longed for this man to move faster, thrust harder.
“Pitch!” The boy shouted.
The man groaned, his rhythm faltering for a second. He reached around, his hand grabbing for the bouncing length stroking it in opposite of his thrusts. Jack strained to keep his mind from going blank. He felt so good, this heat coming from within him, and now touching him in time with it too. He felt like he was going to melt.
“Pitch, please. More, I want more.” He managed to ground out, pushing himself back as Pitch shoved himself forward, the two of them groaning loudly.
His forehead came down to rest on the cooled shoulder, droplets of someone hot and wet touching his face. He licked at the skin, biting down hard.
“I think this is the first time you’ve probably ever sweat as a winter spirit, Jack.”
“Mmmh.” He was biting his lip, the noises coming from his mouth tumbling out one after the other. “I can’t-“
“Let it go.”
Jack came with a loud wail, string of cool wetness coating Pitch’s hand. The man had straightened himself and, bringing his hand to his mouth, licked tentatively. A shiver ran through him.
“Gods, you taste good, Jack.” He uttered. Jack trembled, his body was starting to feel too hot.
“It’s so hot, Pitch. I’m burning.”
The man closed his eyes. “Not yet you’re not…” he mouthed, coming hard into the body. He shoved himself deep, trying to get to the far reaches of the muscle. “Jack,” was all he succeeded in saying. Said spirit had lurched forward, his mouth hanging open, Pitch’s fingers twisting their way in and stroked his soft tongue. Jack could taste himself on the fingers and moaned, closing his mouth around them.
Pitch pulled out and pushed back in a few more times, earning a squeak from the lower each time before finally winding down and falling on the bed beside the smaller spent body.
Jack could feel his temperature returning to him all too quickly. He curled himself up, body still shaking. He jumped a little when he felt something around him; Pitch had curled up next to him. The older man’s breathing becoming steadier by the second.
“Thank you.” Jack said quietly. His eyes sliding closed but not before he noticed just the smallest, tiniest hint of a smile cracking on the Nightmare Kings’s lips.