:D

***

‘I understand that you were rarely permitted healing,’Pitch said calmly. ‘I know what to expect.’

Jack’s fingers hovered at the hem of his shirt. Heknew that Pitch wouldn’t make him. He knew there was even stuff they could do,and he wouldn’t have to take his shirt off at all. But he also knew that Pitchwanted him to do this, and even though the rest of the time he mostly ignoredwhat Pitch wanted, in this room, he felt obliged.

He met Pitch’s gaze, and then took a breath andunbuttoned his shirt quickly. He wished his fingers would move slower, hewished that he would fumble the buttons, and that Pitch would tell him it didn’tmatter.

Instead, he slipped the shirt off his shoulders, tooka breath – held it – and then turned around.

There were no words of condemnation, nor anything likea gasp of horror or disgust. But the silence stretched for long enough thatJack was certain he’d done the wrong thing.

‘Look, I’m-’ Jack said.

He lurched forwards when he felt fingertips ghostingover some of the ridges, and was surprised when Pitch let him move away.