Jack inspects the warm toaster with intense curiosity. Occasionally, he presses his finger against it and watches the steam float and wave up into the air, before being forced to pull away from the stinging pain. His eyes look down to see the scorching metal giving of a warm orange glow. His mouth parts slightly at his perfectly visible reflection at the side of the metal box. The bread, now toasted, pops up with a satisfying 'ding'. Jack loved that part of the process. However, he was always looking for the bell that he never had the pleasure of making the noise with it himself. He takes the two slices of bread and drops them onto a plate, the warmth tingling at his fingertips. He grips a knife and smoothes it over the butter. Spreading it over the crisp bread, he watches intently as the substance melts and is soaked into the bread slightly. He smiles slightly, takes hold of his mug handle holding his cup of tea and walks to the dinning room table. His mouth begins to water as the aroma overpowers his smell senses. He raises the slice to his parted lips, ready to use his teeth to slice the sustenance, when he is stopped by the familiar voice of his lover.
"Jack Overland Frost! This isn't funny!" He shouts, clearly frustrated. His eyes pierce through the shadows at the corner of the room while the rest of him blends. The toast, that is cooling down with every second that passes, is so close to Jacks lips that he can almost taste it's luscious texture.
"What?" Showing no indication as to what is going on.
"Don't play around me. I know you've swapped my clothes." Pitch sneers. Jack raises an eyebrow toward him and puts his toast back onto the plate. Turning on his chair slightly he says, "I'm sure it doesn't look that bad. Lets have a look."
Reluctantly, Pitch shifts out of the shadows to reveal his latest attire. Jack presses his lips together and feels his cheeks heat up. The pink dress clings loosely to his shoulders, the tightened corset being the only support for the dress so no to fall down. Jack tries to hold back his laughter.
"You've gone too far this time Frost." Pitch scowls, ignoring Jacks futile attempt not to laugh.
"I swear down I played no part in this." Jack cant help but burst out with laughter while saying this, holding his hands up to show his innocence.
"Well who did?" Pitch demands. I stand up as he passes me, heading toward the cupboards.
"I don't know. What are you doing now?" Jack questions, watching Pitch dig through the cupboard.
"Looking for my robes, what else?" He answers, still annoyed. He stands up straight and runs his hand through his hair, sighing. Jack walks up behind him.
"I think you look quite... Sexy." Jack smirks, smoothing his hands over and down Pitch's arms.
"Yeah and I think you look like.. Like.." Pitch begins. However, his words fail to leave his mouth because Jacks hands slither down the front of Pitch's chest and corset.
"Like what?" Jack teases, pressing his chin on the dark spirits shoulder.
"L-like a beautiful snow spirit, that knows he shouldn't tease." Pitch replies, turning to face Jack. Their heads move towards each other and their lips connect, merging and intwining into a colour contrasted embrace. Jacks hands run through Pitch's hair as his tongue slides into the elders mouth, liking and tasting the pleasures inside. Eventually, they are forced to pull away for air, but their tongues keep circling one another's outside their mouths. Their eyes are closed, senses focusing more on the taste if each other rather than the surroundings. However, Pitch pulls away slightly, making Jack reluctantly stop.
"I can't take you seriously in those pants anymore. What are you wearing those for?" Pitch questions, raising an eyebrow, looking down at the brightly colored hearts and snowflakes on his boxers.
"You can't take me seriously?! And there my pajamas. Why what's wrong with them?" He retaliates, look down at his attire.
"We should both go and change." Pitch tells him, "I just want to know who's taken my robe. If they told me, I would probably give them the best night of their life." He continues, walking forward, looking at the teen from the corner of his eye. That last sentence rung in Jacks head like the big bens bell. He takes a hard gulp and takes a step forward.
"It was me, I took the robe." Jack confesses.
"Really? Well, dear Jack, thank you for the optional confession." Pitch smirks, using the sands and shadows to form a robe clinging to his skin. Jacks eyes widen.
"If you could do that, why didn't you do it in the first place?!" Jack interrogates, wondering Pitch's intentions.
"I needed a solid excuse to punish you later." Pitch chuckles, "Now go get changed." He finishes, tapping the boy on the bum. Jack tentatively steps out of the room, dumbfounded that he'd been played by Pitch.
Pitch is sitting where Jack was sitting a few hours ago. It was now coming close to nine o'clock. Pitch takes hold of the mugs handle which is holding his tea. Raising it to his lips, he is about to swallow the warmth of the beverage, when Jack interrupts him from upstairs.
"PITCH! This isn't funny! This is so much worse than yours! This is just cruel... Punishment!"
Jack exclaims, releasing what's going on. Pitch smirks as he imagines Jack in black stilettos, garter and bra.
"That's only half the punishment." He mutters to himself, letting the warm tea touch his lips.
"Oh my god Pitch!" Jack complains, a slightly laugh in his voice.