WHAT GOES TOGETHER BETTER THAN COLD AND DARK? - PART 1
Jack took a run up to the cliff and he was about to throw the casket containing his teeth in the ocean, but in the end his will failed, and he held it up tightly in his hand. Despite all the misfortunes it caused him, he couldn't get rid of it. He would not, he could not throw the only thing that could reveal his past away and that could bring a new light to his future; the only thing that could clear up his task, who Jack Frost was and why he was there.
He grumbled exasperated, frowning. He was trying to think about what he could do, when a deep voice interrupted the flow of his thoughts.
«I thought this might happen. They never really believed in you. I was trying to show you that, but I understand...».
Furious, the boy turned round, his expression distorted in anger, and he attacked the enemy in front of him with an icy beam, shouting:« You don't understand anything!».
Pitch protected himself by creating a shield of black sand and he counter-attacked: blacks tentacles of fog came out of his hands, stretching out to reach Frost, while he imperiously replied: «I do know what it means to be cast out!».
Taking advantage of the wind at his command, the guy leapt over the enemy and growling he delivered a blow against him: the impact hurled him back, and he landed on the ground in a slight drizzle of ice crystals and darkness. He tried to spot the Boogeyman, bewildered by the confused view, and he glimpsed him getting closer from behind.
«To not be believed in! To long for a family...» said Pitch, his voice cracking with sadness, and his expression shattered by the pain that caused Jack's eyes to widen and lowering the stick.
«All these years in the shadows I thought: "No one else knows how this feels like"... but now I see I was wrong» continued the man, slowly approaching him;«We don't have to be alone, Jack. I believe in you, and I know children will, too».
«In me?» the boy asked in disbelief.
«Yes! Look at what we can do» the Boogeyman said, showing the impressive and jugged sculpture of ice and black sand that they had created during the fight. «What goes together better than cold and dark? We can make them believe, we'll give them a world where everything, everything is...».
«Pitch Black?» Jack said.
«... and Jack Frost, too» he quickly completed, «They will believe in both of us».
«No, they'll fear both of us, and that's not what I want» the boy replied, and he concluded: «Now for the last time: leave me alone».
Without waiting for an answer he turned away with a light step, trying to look indifferent, but the whirlwind of emotions that shook his nerves was so overflowing that it couldn't be restrained. After a few yards he stopped, running his left hand over his eyes, and tried with all his might to reflect, picking up the train of thoughts that had been interrupted by the man. In vain, of course. The more he tried to think about all the mistakes he did - the disappointments given to the Easter Bunny, how helpless he felt when he lost Sandman, the disorientation in not knowing why he existed, with not a single reason about why he existed, nor a path that led to an improvement of the situation - the more he focused on a Pitch bent under the weight of his suffering, his voice cracking with grief while he explained that he had always felt lost. Like him. Was it possible that they were so similar? Two kindred spirits? The Boogeyman looked so cruel, so wicked, willing to use any trick to see even one child crying because of him... and yet the expression on his face as he showed his feelings couldn't have been more human. Was he telling the truth? Could he have feelings so complex and apparently conflicted with the pure evil that he represented?
Sank deep in these thoughts Jack almost didn't notice that Pitch had reached him: it was so natural to glimpse the man kneeling behind himself, absently accepting the contact of his arm around the waist and his hand leaning on his shoulder, and the words used to invite him to stop lingering on his pain sounded right. The boy gave himself completely to the other, who hugged him tightly, pressed to his back; he felt thin coils of magic sand crawling along the chest, and yet he didn't fight: it was the next thing to a cuddle he had ever received in all his long life.
When The Boogeyman perceived Frost relaxing against him he became more bolder: he let the tentacles of darkness stretching, twisting around the neck of the guy until they reached his jaw; with his right hand he lightly touched the hollow spaces along his collarbone, while he slid the left hand under the blue hoodie to stroke his hip so skinny; and it was a natural consequence that the man bowed his face between the space of his shoulder and his neck, laying there light kisses.
Jack winced at the contact, amazed by the gentleness with which the other was treating him, and he instinctively tensed; immediately the man stopped, forcing him to turn his face. He stared straight into his eyes and whispered: «I told you, Jack: we don't have to be alone».
Frost struggled to hear those simple words, because 'he had inevitably started to fall under the spell of that wonderful gaze: open, deep, pure in his golden color of the irises and yet so mysterious in the dark flames that burned even there, as if the whole figure of the Boogeyman should be permeated by them. He stood still when he inched closer, and blushed when his lips pressed to their own. What was that gesture? Was what humans called... a kiss? He had never given nor received one, he didn't even know how to do it, but he understood that it made him feel good and whole as never before. It was easy, for him, to close his eyes and let himself go.
Pitch's tongue stroked his lips, lascivious, making them open up, and got sliding into his mouth. He drew Jack's tongue in a silent and sensual dance, stealing from Jack a soft sigh. As the boy learned to respond and let the embarrassment faded away, the man deepened the contact, wrapping him in a hug, making the kiss less and less chaste and sweet, drawing endless arabesques on his body with his skinny fingers and the black sand.
Jack felt completely overwhelmed by those feelings so alien, and so strange considering the creature who was making him feel that way. An unknown warmth burst in his lower abdomen; his legs buckled and he flushed bright red for the first time since he was born. Setting aside any reserve he threw his arms around the man's neck, sinking his fingers in those silky hair, uncovering an inch of skin on the belly and implicitly giving the other the permission to take advantage of it: and the Boogeyman didn't need to be told twice, and he slid his palms under the hoodie, covering every inch of that white skin and sending dark tentacles to amplify the pleasure.
A groan escaped from Frost's lips because of the intimacy of that contact, the signal of its total surrender: warm chills crawled on his back, rising from the stomach to the neck, and he could not hear anything except for Pitch: his soft mouth, his silky hands, his sand like velvet on his skin were everything for him at that moment: he couldn't feel anything else, nor the icy ground beneath his feet, nor his body, nor the staff in his hands... the staff… the staff!
In a sudden flash of fear he opened his eyes, trying to slip out of the man's grip, and he swept around in search of the object that had accompanied him throughout his life. He spotted it immediately, abandoned at his feet: and that was the last time he saw it intact.
With an evil smirk the Boogeyman broke it under his knee, splitting it in two and scattering small shatters around; simultaneously Jack felt a stabbing pain in his chest, as if his heart had been ripped out. He slid to the ground, unable to stand on his own.
Quickly Pitch hastened to support him, grabbing him by the shoulders, and with a soft voice he whispered: «Oh Jack, I'm sorry, I am really sorry: I would not have wanted to go that far, but you've got this bad habit of interfering... I can't let you destroy my plans».
Hearing those word the boy pulled himself together, overwhelmed by his own anger: with his last energy he raised his head and threw himself at the opponent, trying to grab him by the collar. A flash of fear crossed the mesmeric eyes of the Boogeyman, who didn't expect a reaction, but with a swift swerve he managed to avoid him, and he attacked him with the magic sand.
Jack, defenseless, felt himself lifted upwards and crashed into an ice barrier behind him; powerless and stunned by the blow he fell into the precipice below, repeatedly bumping into the walls and injuring himself even more. However, when he was a few inches from the imminent impact on the ground, two strong and warm arms grabbed him, holding him almost lovingly, and slowly settled him on the ground. Awakened by the soft warmth that enveloped him, Jack opened his eyes, and what he saw, in spite of the weakness that had flooded his limbs, surprised him.
Pitch was knelt beside him, bent on his face: with his right arm he was supporting him behind by his back and neck, while with his left hand, he was lasciviously stroking his jaw; with the black sand he had wrapped his legs in a delicate hold and not possessive at all, circumfusing him with a dark aura in eternal movement in the vain attempt of warming up those limbs always frozen; and his look… his look so iridescent and mysterious was full of concern.
However, as soon as the Boogeyman saw him recovering, he shook his head, wiping away that look so human, and coaxingly whispered: «Jack, Jack, be a good boy, do not force me to be naughty with you...».
The boy coughed and started to push aside the hand that was still brushing his cheek, but as soon as he felt the man's silky skin under his fingertips, every ounce of his will and his hatred caused for what he did to his staff and the anger of being defeated deserted him. He strengthen the grip and took him closer, to feel the whole palm of that hand so big and so skinny pressed to his frozen skin.
The Boogeyman smiled maliciously, and said: «Oh Jack, you don't know how much I would like to stay here with you, but I have to win my war...»; a mist of sadness lowered on his golden eyes, and his face went even closer to him: «But I promise you, Jack: when everything will finish I will come back to you».
As to seal that promise, he took his lips once again, caressing his Jack's tongue with his own, stroking his neck with his slender fingers until he stole from him a low moan, the sign of his total submission. When he heard that sound Pitch smiled, and dissolved himself into a solid fog; he lingered a few moments near the boy's face, tickling his ear, and whispered: «Wait for me, Jack».
Then he disappeared in a violent stream which dashed against the wall of the precipice, disappearing in an unknown place in the world.
Frost pulled himself together hearing those four words, as simple as full of meaning and promise, expectation and lust. When he couldn't feel his presence any more, he shivered and huddled on himself, clutching his arms to his lean body: in his long life he had never felt as cold as in this moment.