Title: Tainted Love
Author: The Emcee
Pairing: Pitch/Jack
Rating: M (to be safe)
Summary: Only behind closed doors could he touch Jack, kiss him, claim him as his own, and possess him in a way that no one else ever had. Or ever would. Just like Pitch himself, their relationship was dark and twisted, filled with fire and ice. And that was how he liked it.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, actors, or the fandom.
A/N: There's not enough Pitch/Jack out there in my opinion, so I wrote this little fic, and it is a little one. The pairing is dark and sexy and that's why I like it. R&R. Enjoy!
Tainted Love
Gray fingers caressed cool, pale skin. Lips pressed soft, warm kisses to shoulder blades bereft of clothing. The body beneath his own shuddered and gasped softly. He smiled a small smile, knowing that his touch felt like fire and fear and everything nightmares were made of. But there was nothing to fear, not at that moment, and there were no nightmares. It was just the two of them, Pitch Black and Jack Frost, lying on a bed with black silken sheets and pillows that matched.
They had lain in his bed numerous times before, but Pitch never thought it dull or repetitive for Jack Frost was anything but dull and repetitive. Every caress, every kiss brought a new reaction and when Pitch entered him, it was like Heaven meeting Hell. It was fire on ice and it was glorious and spectacular and everything Pitch had ever imagined.
No one knew, of course. What would the other Guardians think or say if they ever found out that their precious little winter sprite was shagging the King of Nightmares? They certainly wouldn't cry tears of joy. Tears of sorrow and hatred perhaps, but not joy. Not that Pitch particularly cared about their opinions. In all honesty, there wasn't much that Pitch did care for, but even he had to admit that there was a special connection between himself and Jack Frost. Until Jack had been made a Guardian, he, much like Pitch, had been invisible to the children of the world. They couldn't see either of them even when they called out to them. It was a very lonely life and they shared that. That was what made them such a perfect pair; the pain and loneliness they shared was what first connected them, everything else merely fell into place.
Pitch kissed Jack's neck and grinned when the pale boy shuddered beneath him. He loved that feeling, he reveled in it, and he pressed his warm body closer to the colder one. His erection pressed against Jack's thigh and he listened as the winter spirit moaned oh, so softly. Hearing that soft sound made Pitch growl softly in response and he jerked his hips and entered the smaller body. No matter how many times they did this, Jack was always so tight and delicious.
Gasping at the sudden intrusion, Jack mewed and squirmed as Pitch placed hot kisses along his neck. He pulled out and thrust back in, setting the pace for the smaller spirit and creating a chaotic rhythm that had no beat or consonance. His lips found Jack's and they shared a rough, passionate kiss. They both knew that what they were doing was wrong; despise how he acted and carried on, Jack wasn't a fool nor was he stupid. They were, first and foremost, enemies, and then they were kindred spirits, and then lovers. If they would even call each other lovers. Pitch wasn't sure what he'd call them, but he liked the term 'lover' over 'friends with benefits'. Lover made it more personal and the connection their shared was definitely personal.
Pitch felt his stomach begin to twist in a knot and he knew that he wouldn't last much longer. By the delicious moans that were tumbling out of Jack's mouth, the younger spirit wasn't going to last very long himself. Not that Pitch minded; they would do this numerous times before Jack would leave his lair. Besides, Jack still had the body, heart, and soul of a teenage boy; his body wasn't as developed as Pitch's was, and Pitch was very much a man. A King, as a matter of fact. The King of Nightmares. One day, Jack and the other Guardians would remember that. Today was not that day, however.
With one final thrust, Pitch came deep within Jack's body. His own body was covered with a thin layer of sweat and he was panting lightly. Jack came all over his sheets, his seed covering the black silk and smearing on his stomach. Pitch couldn't help but find Jack breathtakingly beautiful; with his snow color hair, those bright, icy blue eyes, and his pale, cool skin, he looked very much like an angel. A mischievous, fun loving and trouble-making angel, but an angel nonetheless. Were he a good, honest person, Pitch would dare think that he would change himself to be with the boy angel wherever he went. But Pitch wasn't a good or honest person, nor would he ever be. Even if he was, he was the Boogie Man. How could one with such a name, history, and reputation be a good person?
No, there would never be anything good about Pitch except for one thing. And that thing was Jack Frost. But only when they were in Pitch's lair, away from the prying eyes of the Man in the Moon and the other Guardians, could he have Jack. Only behind closed doors could he touch Jack, kiss him, claim him as his own, and possess him in a way that no one else ever had. Or ever would. Just like Pitch himself, their relationship was dark and twisted, filled with fire and ice. And that was how he liked it.