#blackice week

“Hey Jack, thanks for your help. Do you mind just watching the front while I finish cleaning up?” Tooth asked. For his first day of working at Tooth’s coffee shop, things had gone surprisingly well. Jack may not have been the most mature person on the planet, but working with Tooth actually made working fun, and if there was one thing he was good at, it was fun.

“Sure. Hey, and thanks again for the job Tooth.” She nodded, and started to head to the tables with her cloth and spray when she suddenly froze, with her eyes on a dark vehicle pulling up outside.

She turned back to Jack quickly with panic in her eyes. “Y’know what Jack? You can actually start packing up. No one else is likely to come in tonight, and I can handle cleaning and the counter and closing at the same time.” Her voice was several octaves too shrill for Jack to not catch onto something being up. Plus, he noticed exactly where her eyes had gone, and he glared suspiciously at the car, as its lights turned off.

“This guy someone who gives you trouble?” Jack asked in a quiet rush. No way he was going to leave his bestie alone with some creep who came in five minutes before closing. Especially not when she looked as scared as she did.

“Not...not trouble really,” she squeaked. “He’s just a very rude customer, and he always comes in at the last minute, and today was going really well, and I don’t want him to ruin your first shift.” Too bit at her lip, and fidgeted with her feather earrings.

“Sounds like a real douche,” Jack said, and looked up to see a tall, dark, lanky figure getting out of the car, and heading to the door. “Lucky for you, everybody loves me,” he grinned, and laughed a little at the way Tooth swooned at his teeth. “So, you finish up with clean up and closing, and I’ll deal with Mr. Charming. Just you watch. By the time I’m done making his coffee, I’ll even have his number.” Jack winked, and pushed Tooth off before she could protest. Just in time too as the bell above the door jingled the ominous entrance of Douchey McFuckbag.

Maybe he should ask the guy his name.

“Good evening sir,” Jack cranked up the charm to full, and gave the grumpy looking bastard his biggest smile. “How can I help you tonight?”

The guy just looked Jack up and down, obviously scrutinizing every detail about Jack from his uniform, to his hair and piercings. If it weren’t for his bad attitude, Jack might almost think the guy was hot. Unfortunately, no well cut suit or well chiseled features could make up for the nasty look he gave Jack, while staring down his obnoxious honker of a nose.

“Doubtful. I see the employment standards here somehow managed to drop.” he drawled. Oh. Okay, the douche had a hot accent, and a really nice voice. Maybe there was a way to fix this after all. Jack had slept with worse assholes. “Tall dark roast. Black, two sugar. Think you can handle something that simple?”

“Not a problem. That’ll be five dollars.” While Pitch put his information in the credit card machine, Jack fished out the appropriate cup and asked,”Your name sir?”

“Pitch Black. Don’t dawdle.” He turned his nose on Jack, and Jack had to try not to laugh, because the guy’s name was fucking PITCH BLACK, and somehow his features were even more ridiculously pointy in profile. As per the order, Jack made the drink perfectly, and even left a winky face beside Pitch’s name on the cup.

It was a quick enough order to fill, and once he was done, Jack put the lid on, and put on a proper flirting smile. Maybe it wouldn’t be tonight, but he would get this Pitch Black in his bed. He was determined. “Here you are Mr. Black,” Jack handed over the drink.

Pitch took a sip, made a face, and stared at the cup. He clearly saw the face Jack had left by his name, and when he looked up at Jack, the young man couldn’t help but wink at the asshole. He looked like he had an entire fucking tree up his ass, but the look he made at Jack’s wink was hilarious.

“Shhh. Hush now Jack. Everything’s alright now.” Deep in the dark, far under the earth, Pitch clutches his small victory like a vice. Only, having Jack could never be considered something small. It is not all the fear and power of the world, but it is precious, and it means so much to him.

Jack was made for him. He belongs to Pitch. He was made for only Pitch to look at, to touch, and to savour every little part of. Now no one else can take Jack away. No one can touch him and fill his head with their lies. None of those Guardians will destroy what they have.

He pets his hand through Jack’s hair, and continues to make calming noises for Jack. As much as he loves Jack’s fear - could easily live off of it for days or weeks, he would still rather it be someone else’s fear. Jack in fear means that he’s still fighting what they are. Still fighting what he knows he was made for.

But Jack himself isn’t fighting.

On the outside, Jack has been quiet and sullen for the weeks he’s been down here. He no longer has the fire that drew Pitch to him all that time ago. But he is still the cold, and the winter, and everything he had thought stolen from him, and Pitch burns without Jack close at hand, so Pitch will take what is left of Jack to give. So he does take, and take and take and take, because even Pitch can admit to himself that he is a greedy child at heart. He is selfish, and will grab hold of whatever he deems his. His grip on Jack is tight, even while he assures the boy with niceties, and continues to whisper sweet nothings in his ear.

Jack only trembles in Pitch’s arms, as if he could possibly be cold.

No. From what little Jack has said to him since he came to stay, Jack burns at Pitch’s touch, just as Pitch freezes at Jack’s. He’d said it in one of his first attempts to get away.

“It burns!”

“No. It’s too hot.”

“Please.”

“Please don’t.”

But just like every time before, and every time after, Jack’s body responded to Pitch in a way Jack still refused to accept. Pitch had brought them together and proven once more that Jack was perfect for him.

Only Pitch could do this for him.

Only Pitch was meant to do this to him.

Finally now, Jack had come to a quiet acceptance of what they were. He didn’t push Pitch away. He just took all Pitch gave him, and shivered in Pitch’s hold. Pitch would always be there afterwards to bring Jack back down.

He could never hold Jack for as long as it took him to completely stop his tremors (Jack never stopped as far as Pitch could tell. It was useless to try). He could however hush the boy and vaguely remember a time, millennia ago when this was something familiar.

a child in his arms

screaming and shaking after nightmares

Only now, the nightmares were never far away, and were never really gone.

Kozmotis sighed for what felt like the billionth time that day. Was it really only 10 in the morning? Jack, meanwhile was curled in the corner, wrapped in his blanket, and 'not pouting'. Once more, he threw another outfit away.

"It's too..." Jack paused, most likely looking the appropriate word he wanted online. As clever as Jack was, and even with all the internet constantly at his disposal, he still had a hard time putting descriptors to sensations, smells and tastes. "Too rough!" Jack declared in what would almost sound like triumph if it didn't sound distinctly like pouting.

Thank the stars Jack's blanket was so soft, otherwise Koz wasn't sure what anyone would make of a naked boy walking around his house. Not that a blanket was a decent substitute for clothes, but at least he had managed to convince Jack to wear it for now, until they could find something Jack would wear.

Jack had been most upset the time Koz had tried to convince Jack to wear socks and shoes, so they agreed to put those on hold. Shirt and pants Koz would not budge on however. So here they were on Koz's day off, looking through clothes bought and borrowed over the week. If it wasn't one thing, it was another with almost every outfit.

Too small.

Too course.

Too scratchy.

Too poofy.

Too shiny.

Too rough.

Koz looked into his box of clothes for anything, not caring anymore whether or not it went together, or looked good. If Jack would wear it, it was a decent outfit. Of course it didn't help they were nearly at the bottom, and no closer to finding an outfit than when they started. Without much thought on the matter, Koz grabbed another shirt and pair of pants at random, and walked over to Jack.

He put the clothes down beside Jack and sat down to be closer to Jack's level. Jack stared right at Koz, and nodded for what he knew came next. Koz reached a hand out, and gently as he could ran his fingers along the side of Jack's face. He continued this while Jack closed his eyes and practiced his breathing.

Inhale.

A thumb stroked along, just below his eye.

Exhale.

Fingers worked along his jaw and down to his neck.

Inhale.

The hand wandered back up under Jack's chin.

Exhale.

And a quick kiss, before Jack had a chance to go into sensory overload.

Jack opened his eyes again, and thankfully his breathing was still normal for once. He smiled, reached a hand out of his cocoon to take Koz's hand in his own. Despite his hesitancy regarding clothes, at least he was making progress when it came to touch. "You're rough too," Jack smirked as he played with Koz's hand. Especially your face in the morning," he laughed, remembering the time he'd put a hand to Koz's face before he had woken up, and had been quite surprised by how sharp it was. "It's not a bad rough though. It's not like the clothes. It's nice."

Koz ducked in quickly to kiss Jack's forehead. "I love you." He's said it almost a thousand times since Jack came back. He says it all the time now, and as often as possible, to make up for the one time he couldn't say it and almost lost the chance forever.

"You too." Jack ducked his face into his blanket, still unused to the heat that spreads across his face at times like this.

"Shall we try something else then?" Koz asked, pulling out the clothes for Jack to try, in order to spare Jack any further embarrassment that might overheat his circuit board.

Jack took the escape, as well as the clothes. With no modesty whatsoever, he dropped his blanket to the ground, and started to pull on the shirt. Twice as quick. He threw it off again. Jack grumbled as he pulled on the pants next, and Koz picked up the shirt to put back in the box of rejects.

He turned back to Jack and frowned at the pants he had on. They only reached half way down Jack's calves, and were frayed at the ends. Hell, they were barely held together by twine. "They're torn. Sorry about that. Give them here and I'll grab you a new pair to try on." Koz reached a hand out for Jack to throw them at him.

Surprisingly, rather than rip out of them faster than physically possible, Jack actually curled his knees up to his chest, and wrapped his arms around them protectively. "They're good," Jack glared. "They're soft. I'm keeping them." If Jack was speaking in short sentences, it meant he thought anything Koz had to say on the matter was stupid.

Koz just sighed again. He did a lot of sighing because of Jack, but he loved him despite that. "I'm not going to argue," he raised his hands in surrender. "If it means you're at least half decent, then by all means, you can keep the pants. Now let's see about making you all decent." With that part solved, Koz went back to hunting down a shirt.

"My mind's always on the internet. I don't think being one hundred percent decent will ever be possible." Jack winked, and it brought Koz back to the day Jack had discovered innuendo. He laughed at the memory, one of the fond ones that stood out in his year alone with Jack.

"I certainly won't argue that either," he chuckled. "Now try these on," he said, tossing the remaining pile of shirts at Jack.

With all the calculations Jack could do in his head, Jack had picked up on hand-eye coordination very quickly. He caught all the shirts in the pile, and grimaced at the feel of them in his arms.

Before Koz had to give Jack the talk again about at least giving the shirts a chance, they were interrupted by a knock on the door, followed by a holler. "Please say you're decent before you tackle me!"

"Sehstor!" Jack leapt up, and ran to the door. Koz knew he'd found his mark from the 'Oof!' that followed.

"I believe this is yours." Sehstor stepped into the room with Jack wrapped around his torso. Jack had taken more kindly to Sehstor once he realized just how soft Sehstor was. It had nothing to do with the fact he should treat others decently or that Sehstor was Koz's best friend. Still, it established...well Koz wasn't exactly sure how he could really describe their relationship now, but at least the threats they made on each other were in jest.

"Thank the stars you finally found a pair of pants. I was about to bring you some skirts if you didn't find something soon. Ya'd make a right ugly lady though and might actually scare people off the streets more than if you just walked out naked."

"Excuse you. I'd turn plenty of heads dressed as a girl. I'm very good looking," Jack flipped his hair dramatically, making both soldiers laugh.

"Sure ya would," he scoffed, and helped to hoist Jack up, so he didn't slide down.

"And don't you forget it you delicious-furry-meatsack!" Jack chirped.

"Wouldn't dream of it Fridge Magnet!"

Koz just shook his head at the two of them. He didn't understand, and he didn't want to. Instead, he just reached his arms out for Jack. He was surprisingly light, considering how much of him was metal. "Do you enjoy being used as a jungle gym, and exchanging insults with a super computer, or did you have a reason to visit today?" Jack grimaced at the change in textures, but Koz didn't let him down. He would acclimatize Jack to shirts, one way or another.

"Always to the point. We need to get you drunk again so Jack knows what you're like when you're not being a hard-ass." Sehstor snorted, and took a hefty bag off his shoulder. "Ma suggested Jack might like Pooka clothes better than your Lunanovan stiff materials. Of course this meant she went overboard and made Jack a million traditional shirts and garments. She says the rest is coming next week, and she's sorry she sent so little this time." As he said it, he dumped a huge pile of clothing onto the couch.

"So little," Koz replied sarcastically. "Maybe your mom should wait to see if Jack will even wear them before sending us enough to clothe a small army of Jacks."

"Did you ever meet someone more proud to be Pooka? They will fit and Jack will like them through sheer determination and patriotic." Sehstor dug through his new pile, and pulled out a blue sweater of sorts.

"There's a planet far away where this is called a bunny-hug."

Jack just made a face, and crawled off of Koz to take it. "According to the internet, it's the same planet that makes you into stews, so there's no relying on them as reliable judges of much."

If Jack hadn't already freed himself, Koz may have dropped him in shock. Had Jack-? Had Jack just said something nice to Sehstor? He was still in shock  as Jack pulled the sweater over his head. He only became aware again when he realized Jack hadn't tossed the thing at him or across the room in disgust.

Jack was staring at him intensely, and the first thing out of his mouth when he realized Koz was back in the real world again was, "I'm keeping it."

"How's that for Pooka ingenuity?" Sehstor crossed his arms over his chest with pride. "Ma's never wrong."

"Why's there a pouch in the front?" Jack asked, even as he slipped his hands in casually.

"Please tell me your mother is sending shoes too." With the luck of Pooka clothes on his side, Koz hoped against hope that maybe they had something soft in footwear.

"It's a pocket. My younger cousin had the idea, and my Ma probably made yours like that because you're about the same size. And mate, Pooka don't wear shoes." He said the last part like it left a bad taste in his mouth.

"Does your cousin think he's a kangaroo? I think your cousin is a kangaroo." Koz just covered his face in shame, while Jack hopped on the spot, and tried to bury himself in his new sweater. Despite the stiff look of the frost-like design on the collar and sleeves, it must have been soft for Jack to take to it so quickly.

"Don't say that to his face," Sehstor laughed, enjoying the entire joke of this situation.

"That will totally be the first thing I say to him." Koz should have been paying closer attention, because out of nowhere, he felt a smaller hand slip into his free one and fingers laced with his own. It was a first for Jack to take his hand rather than the other way around. When he looked down, Jack was just smiling up at him like this had been the plan all along.

If anything, it had probably been a plan for a long time now.

Jack had been staying with Pitch for a little over two months now, and every day Jack became more and more open, and settled more firmly into his life with Pitch. Ever since that first, full body hug so long ago, Jack had only increased in his affections. For Jack’s sake, and because Jack himself was something to be revered and cherished-

They had never cherished Jack. Had never truly appreciated what they had. But now Jack was with him. Jack was safe. Jack would never be too far away.

Jack would love him.

-Pitch had been taking things slow.

Even as the effects of the pelt wore on Jack, pulling him always closer to Pitch, whether Jack was aware of it or not, Pitch still kept things at a reasonable pace.

He wanted to grab. Wanted to pull Jack in, and take him in whole. Wanted to possess Jack wholly and so completely that they could never be apart. Some nights it had been impossible to bear himself away from Jack’s side, and he had taken to sleeping on the chair next to Jack, with one hand always resting on Jack. Then Jack had suggested that maybe they could move into Pitch’s bed, since it was large enough for both of them. Pitch had laughed that there might be room for both of them, but then where would they put Jack’s nest of pillows? Still, he took the offer of sleeping together readily, and he had never slept better than he did surrounded by pillows and surrounding Jack.

After almost a month, Jack had taken a sudden turn in their relationship. Where before it could be argued that they were platonic signs of affection Jack bestowed on him, when they would sit together wrapped up more in each other than in whatever they were meant to be doing, now it was very obvious Jack had a more romantic interest in mind.

Stealing breakfast in curiosity turned into teasing, and flirting.

Quiet footsteps turned into sneaking up on Pitch around the house to hug him at any time.

Shy greetings turned into kisses.

Anything really, turned into kisses.

“I’m not as fragile as you think I am Pitch,” Jack teased, and pulled Pitch more quickly down the path to the ocean. While Jack was always afraid of going outside, while some mysterious would-be kidnapper had his pelt, he said he felt safe so long as Pitch was close by, and as long as they never went too far from the house.

Pitch was more than happy to keep Jack all to himself.

Today though, Jack had insisted on going to the beach.

“Let’s go on a date!”

And how could Pitch possibly have said no when he phrased it like that, and when his eyes were just so big and so blue?

“I just worry for you,” Pitch smiled, and let Jack pull on his hand like an excited child.

“I know,” Jack chirped. “And I love you for it.” He smiled so brightly as he said it, and Pitch couldn’t help but smile, even if something about the word “love” seemed off.

What he felt was not so whimsical as love.

What he felt was more akin to need. It was something older than humans, older even than selkies and all other manners of fey creatures. It was something deep in his bones, that felt hollow whenever he was not near Jack. He’d hated the few days he’d had to be apart from Jack for more than a few hours. Even those hours he needed to spend in town for supplies were torture, when every fibre of his being was calling him back to the selkie hiding in his home.

But if it satisfied Jack to call it “love”, then without a better way to phrase it known to either of them, he would let Jack call it love.

Once Jack’s feet touched the sand, he was off like a rocket, straight into the ocean. Although the tug drew painfully on Pitch for him to follow, Pitch stayed back, just to watch Jack in satisfaction. Jack couldn’t go far anyway. They’d learned early on that Jack could barely swim with his legs. That had led to its own emotional breakdown, during which Pitch had taken the pleasure of providing Jack with comfort hours afterwards. For now though, Pitch could just take Jack in, and calmly set up their blankets.

“Pitch! Look!” Pitch looked up to see Jack up to his neck in water, and was horrified at just how far out Jack had gotten in the few minutes he had looked away. Maybe Jack wasn’t as incompetent a swimmer as they had thought.

That was a risk Pitch wasn’t willing to take.

“I see you!” he shouted back, with far less amusement in his voice than Jack’s. “Now come back in before something happens!” He didn’t even want to imagine some of what those somethings were.

They’ll take him back!

If he goes too far, they’ll take him back.

He wouldn’t be able to breathe, and whose fault would that be when they drowned him?

“You come in!” Jack shouted before taking a deep breath and ducking under the water.

For a second, it was all of Pitch’s worst fears come true. He didn’t even blink, he just ran straight into the ocean after the spot he had last seen Jack in. Thankfully, what was neck deep for Jack wasn’t nearly so deep for Pitch, but he still couldn’t find him! Where could Jack have gone if he couldn’t go any further than where his feet could touch?

He was about ready to dredge the entire ocean to find Jack when the fey thankfully  answered the question for him. Jack popped up a few meters away, gasping for air, and flailing his arms around. Pitch took no time to come over, and grabbed Jack firmly by the arm.

“What were you thinking?” Pitch hissed. He might have gone on, but Jack apparently had similar ideas about grabbing on tightly. He wrapped his legs around Pitch’s torso, and his free arm around Pitch’s neck.

“I was thinking,” Jack drawled coyly, “That it was about time I bring the two things I love most together.” Pitch let go of Jack’s arm, dumbfounded, and Jack took the opportunity to trail his fingers up Pitch’s chest while he continued. “It’s like I keep saying Pitch, I’m not all that fragile. You’re not going to break me, and it’s obvious I’m going to be here for a while.” Jack paused, and cast his eyes out to the wider parts of the ocean he could no longer reach. “To be honest, I want to be here for a long while. I hate being grounded, but I’m happy being with you.