His hair fell in his eyes like snowflakes. No matter how many times he'd brush them away, his bangs would always cover his eyes. He tossed and turned- skin scraping against the think branch of a tree he'd chosen to nest in. Now that the "mission" was over, he was alone again . . . his so-called "friends" hadn't even sent a greeting in two long months. Feeling lonely, empty, and slightly curious, Jack Frost ran his fingertips over the bark of the tree. The boy's eyes fluttered shut and a thought- no... A memory- came back to him. He knew better.
Jack shook his head. He'd heard that voice before, but he knew better. Pitch Black had been defeated. There was no need to worry. He sighed heavily as he tossed and turned against the rough bark. Hours passed before he'd had enough. With a slight grunt, Jack froze the branch and tore off the bark, leaving the branch smooth beneath him. Once again, he found himself absently stroking the branch and that cold voice returned to the back of his mind. "... All those years in the shadows, I thought, 'No one else knows what this feels like'... but now I see I was wrong... We don't have to be alone, Jack... "
A slight moan escaped Jack's frosty pink lips. Inside, he felt a flurry of emotion- Anger at what Pitch had tried to do, curiosity for what could have been had he taken Pitch's offer... and another feeling. Sorrow. In that moment, he realized that he'd come to miss the Nightmare King. Now that he was gone, Jack had never felt more alone. "What goes together better than cold and dark?" the voice spoke again; Pitch's voice. Jack wasn't exactly sure what he was doing, his body seemed to know what it wanted. He just let it happen.
Absently, he broke off a piece of one branch that was about the right size (right size for what, he did not know) and froze the bark, smoothing the rough edges. He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. By the time Jack was aware of what he was doing, he'd found himself stripped of his clothing and that branch deep inside him. Another delicate moan escaped him and he let his body take over again. Even gone, surely his memory could bring the boy some sense of comfort. Jack bit his lip and gripped the branch tighter, easing it deeper and deeper inside his warm and wanting heat with each thrust. After a few thrusts, he lost himself and he began to whisper the other man's name between heated and heavy breaths. "P-pitch... Pitch!"
He closed his eyes, trying to keep the moonlight out of his mind as he felt his orgasm building. Jack thought of the other man; imagined it was his pulsing cock buried so deeply inside him and not that branch. He wanted so badly to feel Pitch's touch, and to taste his lips. Jack imagined they'd taste of blood and black licorice though he wasn't exactly sure why. "A-ah! Pitch!" he bit his lip to keep from screaming. His body began to shake and his thrusts quickened, pressing the branch inside as deep as it would go. His back arched and he screamed as he felt the warmth from his climax wash over him. Jack was bathed in his own seed and felt better; but at the same time, so very dirty.
A quick rinse in the river fixed part of it, though he still felt as though he was wearing his own seed like a badge of shame. When it was over, Jack forced himself to look up, then squinted. He was embarrassed to find the moon looming over him like a disappointed parent. "D-don't judge me, Manny…" he sighed heavily, dressed slowly and crawled back onto his lonely perch in the tree- still heavy with a sense of guilt and another feeling he couldn't quite place, and curled up, yet again. This time, he found his way to a cold and uneasy sleep.