Jack Frost and Pitch Black had grown close over the years after the battle. How they came to be so intimate is not important right now; suffice it to say that they had come to recognize and embrace their intimate feelings for one another.
Well, embrace might be a strong word, Jack pointed out. He was sitting in front of an empty fireplace in Pitch's lair, thinking about their relationship. They sat close together, and sometimes Pitch would touch his shoulder or hand to get his attention, but other than that, the physical aspect of their relationship was virtually nonexistent.
It was moving agonizingly slowly for Jack. He'd been around long enough to see how normal relationships progressed, physically alongside emotionally, but Pitch didn't seem interested in that at all. They talked – they talked so much – and they did 'fun' things together (snowball fights, scaring kids on Halloween, and so on). But they lacked the physical connection that Jack yearned for.
He decided to take it upon himself to initiate contact. Usually, when he casually tried to touch him, Pitch would just as casually move away. So, Jack decided to be a little less subtle.
He stood up and sat next to Pitch, who was sitting on the couch explaining all the reasons they couldn't have a real fire in the fireplace.
" . . . and I don't even have a chimney, so all the smoke and ashes would just come into the room."
"But it's warm!" Jack argued.
"Have you even been listening? You can't stand warmth and I don't much care for it either, so why would that make me want a fire?" Pitch sighed exasperatedly and rested his hand on the seat next to him, giving Jack a perfect opportunity.
Jack put his hand over Pitch's and caressed it gently his his thumb, watching Pitch in the corner of his eye. Pitch looked down at their hands with confusion, but seemed to decide he liked the sensation and continued on his rant about Jack spacing off all the time, which Jack didn't hear because he was spacing off.
A small victory, Jack decided, but a victory nonetheless.