When Jack looked up at the jagged blue-black mosaic of sand and ice; that is when he changed his mind.
But that was so long ago.
When he took Pitch Black's offered hand, when he saw the crooked grin of pointed teeth. The hand was cold, cold as he was, it was familiar and he grasped it with more earnest because this is were he wants to be. No one believes in him, no one but this man who towers over him even though Jack can fly. Pitch pulls him closer and he doesn't fight, allowing himself to be pulled into Pitch's hard chest. Long fingers come up to stroke through his hair and he can feel Pitch everywhere. Because darkness is everywhere and Pitch is everything that is dark. It's now when he realizes how strong Pitch truly is, how afraid he should be.
Pitch must be able to read his mind because a beat after the thought had entered his mind the darkness chuckles. Deep and resonating. "I would not hurt you, Jack." Jack remembers nodding and that was that. He was Pitch's. He was the dark's and the dark was where he belonged.
Oh but that was so very long ago.
Now Pitch is sitting on his thrown of onyx and black marble and Jack is at his feet. Jack can sit or stand anywhere he wished and he knows, but this is were he is most comfortable. Pitch is talking to one of his many human servants telling them about the supply of food in the kitchens or some of the like; he's not really listening. He leans his cheek against Pitch's calf while long fingers card through his hair. He sighs in content.
His hair was the first to change, after about the first 4 months his hair began to darkin at the roots, covering the shocking white until there was none left. Pitch grinned possessively and told him his hair was lovely.
His eyes were next. The dark bags underneath came soon as of lack of sunlight and sleep but the iridescent blue is now yellow, a shining gold ring around the pupil and a blue ring around the end of the iris. Pitch kisses each eyelid and tells him he's beautiful.
"Jack." Pitch calls, snapping Jack out of his thoughts. He looks up at his love and the yellow eyes look back at him filled with amusement.
"Hmm." He answers with a small smile gracing his blue lips.
"How about we retire, yes?" He asks standing and lifting Jack off the floor with him. Not waiting for an answer from him.
Pitch keeps a firm but gentle hand at the small of his back, leading him to there shared room.
Pitch comes close, grabbing the end of his hoodie and pulling it over his head.
The boogie man strips him down as he does every night, looking at every bit of exposed pale, creamy white skin. Touching him gently as if he were made of porcilin.
Pitch then tucks him into the cool sheets of their bed and crawls in behind him. Bringing him close and wrapping him in his arms.
Jack supposes if they wernt both meant for the cold this would be so warm; but he's not complaining. He never did enjoy the heat. He falls into sleep with
Pitch stroking his hand through his hair and whispering sweet things into his ear.
His magic has changed, he's powerful now. More so then he was ever been. Pitch says he's perfect. He supposes that's all that really matters.