Hello everyone! Here is yet another brain child of me and my writing soulmate JarJarBlinx1. She's fabulous; go check out her page!

A HUGE thank you to Ionahi for the beautiful cover artwork she made for us. I found her on tumblr, and you should too. All of her stuff is FABULOUS.

Without further ado, enjoy!

Jack looked up at the flashing neon sign in front of him with a sigh. "Why am I here, again?"

A large hand clapped him on the back, nearly knocking the thin man over. "Because! You spend too much time with children. You need to worry about your own happiness!"

"I am happy, guys. I really enjoy working with the pups. What makes you think I need to find a mate so bad?" Jack turned away from the front door to The South Pole, the city's most popular gay bar and club.

"You enjoy the pups, yes. But at the end of the day where do you go? To your apartment with your TV and your video games?" The huge man crossed his arms over his chest. "We worry for you. Do not think we don't see the loneliness in your eyes." North turned to the other man in their group. "Right, Sandy?"

The third man was drastically shorter than the other two. His blonde hair flopped around as he nodded his head emphatically. Due to a past injury, he was unable to physically speak to his companions. Luckily his pack was blessed with the ability to communicate mentally. What do you have to lose? Maybe you'll find your soulmate in there. If not, then no harm done, and you can go back to your TV and video games. He smiled reassuringly at his friend.

"Alright, alright," Jack sighed again. He ran his hand through his white hair, trying to tousle it up a bit. "Well, you guys could have at least told me this is where you were dragging me tonight. I'm way overdressed." He rolled up the sleeves to his dress shirt and loosened up his tie.

"You look nice!" North let loose one of his infamous booming laughs. "Don't want to meet your soulmate in raggedy clothes do you?"

Dress to impress! Sandy was grinning up at him.

Blue eyes rolled in their sockets. "Well, then wish me luck, I guess. And if I don't find my soulmate you two owe me a night out on your own wallets!" Jack waved them off and headed towards the door after taking a deep breath to bolster his courage. He dug his wallet from his pockets to show his ID to the security at the front. The twenty-five year old was long used to being carded; his friends liked to joke that he looked like a teenager with a fake ID. After getting through the door, Jack paused at the edge of the crowd. The loud music blaring through the room made his ears ring, and the strong scent of sweaty bodies made his nose crinkle. Looking around at the various styles of dress in the bar and only seeing a few dressed nicely like himself, he was suddenly very glad he'd chosen to at least wear his converse instead of pinchy dress shoes.

Jack made his way to the bar, finding a seat as far from the loud dance floor as he could. He waved down the bartender when he got her attention. "Maple Toddy, please." He gave a nod of thanks when he got his steaming drink, cupping his always cold hands around the glass. "This is going to be a long night…," he muttered under his breath.

Kozmotis Pitchner, famous inventor of the Shadow clan and millennia-old vampire, leaned against the bar and sighed. "Vodka and gin," he mumbled, taking the two shots and downing them quickly. He cringed slightly at the burn and delicately dried his mouth on a pocket square.

He had been to too many bars to bother dressing in the classic sneakers and slutty menswear. He looked around him at the throng of sweaty men, gyrating and grinding against each other on the dance floor, the thick smell of arousal permeating the air. He could smell vampire but also the wet-dog smell of werewolf and, all the way in the back, an eager group of mermen waited anxiously to dance (and spread) their new legs.

Pitch huffed and discreetly brought the handkerchief to his nose, wiping out the smell. "I'm too old for this," he mumbled and pushed away from the bar. "Seriously Vlad, why did you bring me here?" He gave his fellow vampire a dirty look. "Maybe if I was only a hundred years, but I'm much too old for this. Besides, I have my inventions, remember?"

Vlad slapped Pitch's back and smiled drunkenly. "But where else will you find blood freely given?" His words were slurred, and Pitch focused on the small stain of blood on the corner of his mouth.

"Charming. Already draining someone, and the we just got here." He shrugged the hand away and stormed off towards the edge of the crowd, hoping that the brightly lit fish tank would be enough to send anyone away. He moved around behind it and sighed, watching the throng shimmer and sway through the watery lens. "You're all fish, and I'm the shark too bored to bother."

Glancing at his watch, the white-haired man groaned. He'd already wasted two hours of his life in this wretched bar, getting dismissed by every man he'd talked to or even dismissing a few of them himself. He called the bartender over to settle his tab and ordered a last White Russian before he headed out. Jack took his drink and started drinking it on his way to the door. While nursing the end of it, head tilted back to gulp, he didn't see the man in front of him until he'd bumped into him. The rest of the creamy drink went splashing down the front of his shirt, and the glass slipped from his hand to shatter on the ground.

"Shit! I am so sorry! I should have been watching where I was going." Jack ducked down, trying to gather up the broken pieces of glass before they got stepped on.

Long fingers pushed his away, efficiently picking the glass from the floor. "Please," a smooth voice scoffed. "Don't mention...it." Gold eyes looked up and met Jack's, and it seemed like the world around them melted away, leaving them behind. Mate. "It was entirely my fault," Pitch said, gentler this time.

"No, it was definitely me," his breath hitched at the end, barely able to get the last word out. He found himself quickly getting lost in the swirling gold depths. "Jack," he blurted out. The man quickly stood up, a blush heavy on his cheeks. He slowly held his hand out. "I mean...my name's Jack."

Pitch slowly stood, his eyes locked on Jack's. He took hi s hand and held it tightly. "Do you have any idea how long you've kept me waiting?"

"I-I'm sorry, what?" He shook his head, trying to focus his brain on the man's words. "Have we met before? I'm sure I would remember you if we had."

Pitch chuckled, the sound a mere exhale from his nose. "No, we haven't met. My name is Kozmotis, but my mother called me Pitch. A lot easier to say."

"I don't know. Kozmotis is a pretty cool name. One of a kind." Jack smiled big. He finally pulled his hand back, wiping his sticky fingers on his pants. "Sorry about that. I must've gotten some of the drink on my hands."

Pitch smiled. "That does tend to happen when you spill a drink. Speaking of, shall I get you another? A White Russian, yes?"

"Oh, you don't have to do that. If anything, I should be getting you a drink." He wiped down the front of his shirt with frown. "After I clean up a bit. If I run to the bathroom are you going to disappear?"

"Always a possibility. Here." Pitch took Jack's hand and pulled him aside. He pulled a pen from his pocket and wrote something on the corner of a discarded napkin. "My digits, as the young people say. Text me if you'd like. And…" Pitch smiled slowly and subtly backed Jack up until he was pressed against one of the columns. "I was planning on coming back here tomorrow night. Is eight too early?"

"Eight would be perfect." Jack took the pen from the man and used it to write his own cell number on the palm of Pitch's hand. After tucking the pen back into his pocket, he leaned close to his ear so their would be no mishearing him over the loud music. "I'll see you tomorrow then, Koz." Jack practically purred the man's name.

Pitch hummed. "Tomorrow. Don't forget." His nostrils flared, and he looked out into the crowd, his eyes darkening. "Ah, my people summon me," he said sarcastically. "Oh, and Jack?" His eyes returned to meet blue. "Try not to spill anything on me next time." He laughed quietly and seemed to disappear into the crowd, the tight press of bodies seeming to swallow him up.

Jack let out an embarrassed chuckle. "No guarantees…," he faded off when he lost sight of the handsome stranger. With a smile on his face and a little pep in his step, he made his way home. No sooner was his apartment door shut behind him, Jack was stripping his clothes off and heading for the shower. Even after he'd washed the alcohol stink off, he stayed where he was. No amount of cold water was helping rid himself of the warmth that had settled into his stomach. Twenty minutes later he was curled in his bed under his thin blankets, a smile on his face as he faded into sleep with visions of golden eyes.

itch put down his tools and roughly rubbed at his eyes. Whenever he blinked, he couldn't help but remember white hair and blue eyes. "I must have been wrong. He couldn't possibly be my mate. A human? Pathetic." Even as he spoke, his hands reached for his phone and was typing out a message. How about we meet somewhere a little more classy? There's a new club downtown. Meet you there? He smiled as he hit send. He quickly typed a follow-up message. They make a great White Russian. He didn't expect to hear back (humans usually aren't awake at 4 in the morning) but he figured the boy would answer when he did wake. "He may not be my mate, but I've earned a chance at a bit of fun, haven't I?" He turned to a small mirror hanging on the wall, his eyes widening slightly at the large grin on his face. "Oh, shut up."

The phone dinged with a reply. You mean the Crimson Lounge? Same time?

Pitch smiled. Yeah. Could grab dinner after if you have time.

Sounds like a date, Kozzy.

Pitch felt his heart stutter. Flirting already? I'll have to prepare myself.

Good. You'll find I'm not so shy when I get to know someone.

Then I shall really have to prepare myself. You might even kiss me before we have a third date.

We'll see. It'll depend how tonight goes. There was a pause for a few seconds before another text came through. Good night. Hopefully you get some rest sometime in the next fourteen hours.

Don't worry about me. Use the fourteen hours wisely. I think you'll find I can give as good as I get.

ack stood in front of the mirror, scrutinizing his reflection. No matter what he tried on, he couldn't seem to decide what he should wear. Even splashing water on his face didn't seem to help him calm down. He couldn't remember ever being so nervous for a date.

The man had been dodging texts from his packmates all day. Sandy and North hadn't believed him when he said nothing had happened at the club the previous night. One last look at the clock told him that he didn't have time to change outfits again without being late. Jack hoped his date wouldn't think him underdressed for the occasion with his fitted white v-neck, faded black skinny jeans, and his converse. He grabbed his dark blue leather jacket off the hook by the door on his way out.

At exactly 8:05, Pitch walked up to the Crimson Lounge. Wonder if he's thought I ditched. He showed his ID to the bouncer and entered the club. It was much quieter than the one from the night before, the clientele being more exclusive. The rich, deep red fabric covering the furniture and the walls gave it an intimate feeling. On the dance floor, a few couples danced provocatively to the slow jazz being played by the band.

When his eyes met blue, he smiled. "Fashionably late. I hope you didn't think I had forgotten."

Jack raised his glass to his date, his lips curving into a mischievous smile. "Forgotten? No. But you were five minutes away from me moving on to find another date in this lovely establishment." He took a sip of his warm, amber drink. "I didn't know what you would want to drink."

"You would really move on so fast? How upsetting." Pitch stopped a waiter and ordered a drink before sitting down across from Jack. "You look very nice, by the way. I like a person who takes care of how they dress for a first date."

"You're not dressed too shabby yourself." He smirked. "To be frank, this is probably the twentieth outfit I put on. I also probably would have kept changing if I hadn't run out of time. One of us had to be on time, after all."

"I do apologize. Would you believe me if I blamed traffic?"

"I doubt it. I guess I could cut you some slack, though, since it is the first date." Jack looked around the lounge. "This was a good choice. Much more pleasant than the club. I was starting to get a headache from all the music last night."

"As was I, until I met you." Pitch leaned back and smiled. "I hope you like Bowie. He's popular here. The owner adores him. I blame it on his being one of the few male Sirens to ever exist."

"Makes sense." He shrugged. "I don't mind Bowie. He's not far from my type. I'm more of an alternative rock kind of a guy."

"I don't mind alternative rock, so long as it's done properly." Pitch nodded at the waiter as he approached, taking a couple shot glasses from the silver tray. "Do you have a band you prefer?"

"Muse, Linkin Park, Rage Against the Machine. Just to name a few. What about you?" Jack looked at the shot glasses with a chuckle. "You trying to get me drunk on the first date?"

"No." Pitch downed the shots of vodka and gin. "Muse is a fine band. 'I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart.' Yes, they can indeed be fine wordsmiths. I am ashamed to admit that I work a great deal. I don't have much free time to be keeping up with the changing fads of music. I rely on my niece to keep me informed."

"You work a lot? No one works so much they can't listen to music." Jack took a sip of his drink. "What do you do for a living that keeps you under the proverbial rock?"

"I'm an inventor slash scientist. And I am indeed one of those people. Once I begin working, I rarely get distracted. Well...until, that is, last night."

"Ooooh. An inventor? Have you invented anything I would know about? And how did I get so lucky as to catch you on a rare night out?"

"My inventions are more...of a private nature. I unfortunately did not invent things like Space Bags and the Roomba." Pitch placed another order and downed the shots as soon as he got them. "But I made time for you. If I feel the cause worthy, I will take the time."

"Damn. And here I thought I had found myself a Sugar Daddy." Jack grinned deviously. "So what makes me so special as to be a worthy cause? Was it my clumsiness and now you feel the need to ensure my safety?"

"You can call it that. But would you like that?"

"Like what?" He downed the last of his drink. "Having a Sugar Daddy or feeling like a defenseless maiden in need of rescuing?"

"The Sugar Daddy."

"Who wouldn't like to have all their bills paid for them?" Jack flagged down the waitress for another drink. "But no, I don't think I would like that. I like my work and living on my own and working hard for what I have. I wouldn't call myself wealthy, but I'm comfortable."

"I'm glad to hear it. I would have been disappointed to hear otherwise."

"So...you mentioned a niece earlier. What's she like?"

Pitch quirked a brow at the change in topic. "Toothiana. She's...eighteen, with a newfound interest in all things gothic. Her hair is now black with blue streaks, although I prefer her natural blonde. She's about your height, if not a little shorter. I am not her biological uncle, more of an adoptive father, if you will. She was orphaned quite young."

"It's never a happy day when someone loses their family." His face fell, but he tried hide it with a half-smile. "She's lucky you were there for her. And I'm sure she'll grow out of the gothic phase; all teenagers do."

"I think you understand her situation, but we shall not speak of it now. A first date is never a good time to discuss difficult topics." Pitch smiled. "And you asked me before about what you made you special. It's your confidence, your understanding of yourself. The embrace of your sexuality, as well as your limits, your needs, your desires. You know yourself and aren't willing to settle for less."

"And you got all of that from one spilt drink and a short conversation?" A dark eyebrow raised. "You're more observational than I thought."

"I am. A lot can be revealed in a walk, a turn of the head, a single glance. For example, you are very attractive and yet were alone. At least one man had to have propositioned you but was rejected. Based on the crowd that was there, you aren't looking for someone...common. You didn't know me, and yet you were flirtatious. You are aware of your sexual appeal, but never at any point did you ask to return with me. You're not a slut but someone with standards. You are clumsy, I won't argue that, but you walked through that crowd with confidence. You knew where you were going, and anyone who didn't want to get knocked down should move."

"Wow." Jack simply stared at his date in shock. "Well, I was only at the club because my friends dragged me. They have this misguided notion that I'm lonely and need to find my soulmate. You might not believe me, but it was actually more me getting turned down by everyone last night and not the other way around."

"Indeed? Then let me correct myself. You are obviously confident, and it intimidates weaker men. From what I know of you, if you were dragged, it was not entirely reluctant. You are gay because of the way you carried yourself through that crowd. Toothiana would call it a 'fuck you, world' walk. You were showing off, discreetly." Pitch leaned forward. "You're not meant for that world, Jack. That world of weak baseness. You were meant for a world like this, of confident people. You were meant for a world where someone looks at you and sees your confidence as what it is, not arrogance or conceit. You need an equal, Jack, because you are lonely. You're lonely for someone who can understand you completely, inside and out. Your desires, your dreams, your nightmares and fears. You are too grand for that world."

"You're one hell of a sweet talker, you know that?" Jack couldn't help but lean a little forward too, resting his chin on his hand. "Do you sweet talk all your first dates like this?"

"No. I've only ever dated confident people who truly understand themselves. You, my dear, need just a little more to be perfect."

"Just a little?" He held a hand out to Kozmotis. "Let me show you how perfect I am on the dance floor then."

Pitch laid his hand on Jack's, his long fingers caressing the delicate, pale wrist. "Shall you lead then?"

"I could." He suppressed the shiver that ran up his arm from the touch. Jack stood and pulled him towards the dance floor. "I get this feeling, though, that you're the type to lead."

"How observational of you." Pitch pulled him close, one hand holding Jack's and the other resting on his lower back.

Jack smiled, his own free hand resting on Pitch's shoulder. "I might not be as good as you, but I can be observational too." They started to sway with the slow jazz song the band was playing. It had been years since he'd danced, but it seemed to come back to him with perfect fluidity.

"You're a wonderful dancer. Perhaps a ballet dancer, in another life." Pitch pulled him a little closer, the tips of his fingers now teasing the tops of the curves of Jack's rear. "Or a dancer for a maharajah of India."

"Naw. Nothing so extravagant." The wolf couldn't deny the warmth in his chest, filling him to the brim. He knew it was no effect of the alcohol or the nerves but of the man holding him tight. "When I was a kid, my mother and father made it a point to dance with each other every night. It was their way of putting aside the worries and stress of life. As soon as I was coordinated enough they had me join."

"Would you continue the tradition with your soulmate?"

"I would like to if he is willing."

"I'm sure he would, especially after dancing with you."

"I'll have to show him my amazing moves someday." Jack leaned forward a little, sniffing at his date's jacket. "You smell like cloves and nutmeg."

Pitch leaned down and nosed Jack's neck, his senses leading him to the spot that, were he to bite, would bond him to Jack forever. "And you smell of a pine forest after a spring rain."

Blue eyes fluttered shut, and Jack could feel his pulse pick up speed. He couldn't explain it, but he felt like Pitch's touch was more significant than just a simple smell. "Well we sure sound like some cheesy car fresheners."

"I think I would spend a great deal more time in my car if it smelled like you." Pitch pulled away, his hand leaving Jack's to rest against the side of his neck. He could feel Jack's racing pulse beneath the pad of his thumb, and he smiled. "Perhaps it would be too forward of me to mention that I'm wondering how you would smell naturally, unshowered with no cologne. Would a breath of your scent transport me to a forest?"

Jack turned bright red, burying his face in Koz's jacket to hide his embarrassment. "I don't wear cologne, and any soap I use is unscented. I have a bit of a sensitive nose. Most smells nowadays give me a headache."

"I'll remember that for future dates." As the music changed, Pitch spun Jack and pulled him back, the younger man's back pressed to his chest. He once more dragged his nose along the curve of Jack's neck, scenting him. "What must you smell like when you're satiated, lying in bed, completely satisfied? A fine musk that must be."

"I guess you'll just have to stick around long enough to find that out for yourself. It could be awhile though. I'm not one to let a guy in my pants the first couple of dates."

"If there's one thing I have, my dear, it's time." Pitch moved one hand to rest at the base of Jack's neck and the other slid down to rest low on his belly. He used his hips to guide Jack in a sensual dance, their bodies connected in one moving form.

"Then I very much look forward to our time together." Jack let himself fall into the sway of the music. It was nice being able to dance to music that wasn't deafening with a partner he didn't feel like he had to act differently with. Maybe his friends had been right in saying he needed that night out yesterday.

"I think we should go to dinner. A first date demands dinner, and a public place will distract me," Pitch whispered deeply in Jack's ear.

"Any ideas on where we should go? The only place I know on this side of town is a hole in the wall Irish pub." Jack couldn't resist rubbing himself against him before dancing away playfully.

Pitch looked at him hungrily, the gold almost swallowed by black. "A loud pub, full of drunk Irishmen yelling at TVs blasting soccer games? Sounds perfect."

"Then that settles it. To the Mucky Duck we go." Jack grabbed his discarded leather jacket and draped it over his arm. The brisk air outside didn't bother him a bit. Being from the Arctic Pack of wolves came with a few winter perks; being almost immune to cold was one of them.

From the warmth of a thick, black scarf and a heavy Belstaff coat, Pitch watched Jack saunter with a smile. He took his hand out of his pocket and slipped it into Jack's. "For warmth."

"Of course." He let his pale fingers interlace with Koz's, smiling at the sight. Jack let out a happy sigh and enjoyed the cool night air. "For your warmth," he teased.

Pitch nodded in thanks, letting their joined hands hang between them as they walked. "How many other hands have you held like this? Dozens, I'm sure."

"You think too highly of me. I could count them all on one hand."

"And...did those men stay long enough to find out?"

"Find out what?" He looked at him curiously.

"If your sexual satisfaction heightens your scent."

Jack was starting to think he'd never stop blushing with this man around. "I don't think any of them took such fascination with my smell to notice."

Pitch's grip tightened slightly but quickly relaxed again. "Ah. A shame."

"Down here." He followed the sound of Irish music getting louder and louder. "The food here isn't half bad, but their beer is phenomenal. No one can beat the Irish in alcohol."

"I'll let you order for me then." Pitch followed behind Jack, snarling and quietly growling at anyone who glanced at Jack. With a possessively placed hand at the back of Jack's neck, Pitch laid claim in the room full of Irish supernaturals.

"Are you okay?" Jack looked at him with an eyebrow raised after ordering their food.

Pitch's smile returned, and he nodded. "Of course. I'm here with you, but at no risk of stripping you down in public."

"Well, that's good. For a first date, you're awfully possessive," he laughed.

"Possessive?"

"Yes. Don't think I didn't notice." He met Pitch's eyes over his glass.

"I have no idea what you mean."

"Mhmm." Jack rolled his eyes, choosing to let him get away with it. He thanked the waitress when she came with their food. "I'll let you choose. Do you want the bangers and mash or the stew?"

"Whichever you don't want. And why should I not be possessive of you? You're mine...for now. Let them look when or if you decide to be done with me."

"I never said that I was yours. It's only the first date after all." He looked back and forth between the two dishes. "I can't decide. How about we split both in half and share?"

"A fine compromise. And I believe in monogamy during dating, whether it be one date or a thousand. It's only fair to give me the chance. If you want the attentions of others, let me know so I don't keep wasting my time."

"Okay, now. You're the one who pegged me for someone who's not a slut. I'm not the type to date five guys at a time or anything." Jack took a big bite of his burger, almost moaning with how delicious it was. "I'm just saying you don't know me well enough after only one date to be claiming me as strictly yours."

"You are, if just for tonight. And I was speaking purely hypothetical. I wouldn't have bothered with you if you were the type to date five guys at the same time."

"Good. I'm glad I won't have to keep defending my honor anymore." He shot the other man a sly smile. The rest of his food disappeared in the next five minutes as he scarfed it down ravenously.

The waitress came by again to clear his plate and gave him a knowing look. "Another one as usual, Jack?"

The werewolf had the decency to look a little sheepish. "Yes, please." After she headed off for the kitchen, he turned back to his date. "I tend to a shit ton of food. Don't worry about the bill though. I fully plan on paying for my part."

"I insist you let me. Money is of no concern." Pitch pushed his own plate in front of Jack. "I appreciate a man with an appetite."

"No way! I can't let you do that." He pushed the plate back. "I ordered that for you. You shouldn't have to pay for my freakish appetite."

Pitch pushed the plate back and covered Jack's hand with his own. "I insist. You can pay next time."

"You swear?" His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "I get a feeling you're going to try to pay every time despite any promises."

"I swear. Not only will I make you pay, but I will also eat a 'shit ton' of food."

"Then I accept your deal." Jack quickly polished off the rest of Pitch's half just in time for the replacement meal to arrive. "Okay. Now you choose what you want first. I've already pigged out so it's only fair you get first pick."

Pitch pointed towards the small bowl of soup, leaving a heaping plate for Jack. "I want that."

"That's all you want? You're sure?"

"I am."

Despite his embarrassment, Jack didn't need to be told again. Before Pitch was even half done with his stew, he'd finished the mountain in front of him. He gulped down his last mouthful with wide eyes. "Um…" Jack took a swig of beer. "Sorry about that. I know my table manners are nothing short of atrocious. Not exactly something you flaunt on the first date…"

"I find it endearing."

"You sure have interesting tastes in men than."

"I find it endearing because, in many ways, you are the exact opposite of my type or what I believed my type to be. You are an exceptional exception."

Jack blushed again, much to his chagrin. "Then I'm glad I'm the exception."

"As am I." Pitch smiled at Jack's blush, quickly growing accustomed to the gentle pink spreading across Jack's cheeks and the bridge of his nose. "I consider last night to be one of my greatest successes."

He scoffed. "It's not like you had to try very hard to get me to agree. I probably seemed way too eager for a grown man."

"Because you found me attractive."

"O-of course I did. Who wouldn't?"

"Not many, I admit. But my personality can be a bit abrasive if I so choose. Your beauty seems to have tamed me."

"You're quite the enigma, Kozmotis. Forgive me if this is way too forward for the first date..." Jack reached over to steal a quick bite of his food with a grin. "I'm not sure I believe in love at first sight but I'm definitely hoping that's where this is going."

Pitch smiled and pushed his bowl closer to Jack. "That is not too forward at all. In fact...I agree completely."

Jack pushed the bowl back towards him. "I was only messing with you. I'm not going to steal your one bowl of stew," he sniggered. "I am however going to go use the restroom real quick. Don't disappear on me?"

"Not this time. I'm afraid that once you have me, I'm difficult to be rid of."

"Good. I think I like you better this way." Jack sauntered off to the bathroom. When he was done with his business, he ducked out of Pitch's sight towards the front of the pub and paid off their bill. Oh, he's going to be so mad at me, he thought but couldn't resist doing it. After he plopped back in his seat, he shot his date another of his infamously mischievous smiles. "I see you didn't leave."

"I did promise. I also insist that since you paid, that I pay next time."

Jack shrugged sheepishly. "You don't seem like the type who'd ever let me pay. I had to use the one trick up my sleeve while I could."

"I accept that. I also ask that you accept me paying next time. Fair's fair."

"Alright, alright. I promise you can pay next time."

"Very good. Perhaps a movie?"

"Sure! What kind of movies do you like?"

"I don't watch any. How about you choose?"

"You don't watch movies? Why on earth would you want to go then?"

"Because the cinema is a classic date spot. I don't do much beyond work, so everything's really a new experience."

"I'm not exactly an expert on dating either, but I'd say the movies is as good as anything for a second date. Are there any days or times that work well for you and your busy under-the-rock schedule?"

"Text me a day and time, and it'll be perfect. I'll always make time for you."

"Wow. You're such a romantic already. I can't wait to see what you're like when we've really gotten to know each other."

"Such as when we're in bed together, you mean? I'm often told that's the best part. Of course, you're the only one to enjoy the rest of it."

"I'm sure that part will be amazing when the time comes. I was talking more of the time to be spent together."

"I am what you need, Jack. A lover in the ways that matter, and a partner with complete understanding."

"Th-that's what I'm talking about. You're such a sweet talker already. I don't see how you could possibly get better, but I have a feeling you will."

Pitch smiled and traced his finger down the back of Jack's hand, following the veins. "If at any time it becomes too much for you, tell me."

"I will. Though I don't think you could reach that point ever." With a full stomach and the late hour, Jack couldn't hold back a small yawn. "I think I should probably be heading home soon, though."

"Let me drive you. It'll be much faster."

"I appreciate the thought, but I think we've both drunk enough tonight that neither of should be driving right now."

"I have a high tolerance. Come on." Pitch helped Jack to stand and get into his coat. "Where do you live?"

"On the opposite side of town. On the edge by the lake." Jack didn't argue about his jacket. He knew it was colder outside and that he'd be fine, but people tended to get weird when they became suspicious of his cold tolerance. "Are you sure you're okay to drive? I have a high tolerance too, and you drank even more than me."

"I'm sure." Pitch walked with Jack back to the parking garage by the club, where a red Maserati sat waiting. "Hop in."

"This is your car?" He stood there for a good minute just staring.

"One of them. I'll pick you up in the Porsche tomorrow."

"Is it too late for me to take back what I said about having a sugar daddy?" Jack grinned as he slid into the passenger seat. Seat belt on, he sat cuddled close to himself. "I'm afraid I'll break something. It's so nice."

"It's all easily replaceable. Toothiana crashed the last one so I had to run out and get this one. She has a passion for fancy cars, as she says." Pitch buckled himself in and looked over at Jack, letting his right hand rest gently on Jack's knee. "And I would gladly pay for anything you desired if you were mine. However, tonight has proven that your pride won't let me."

"Nope. As nice as it would be, I don't need someone to buy me stuff." He placed his hand over Pitch's, threading their fingers together. "For warmth," he teased again. "I think I'll keep you around for the company though."

"I'm glad. I was hoping you'd give me another chance." Pitch started the car up and took off down the road, easily doing ninety down the empty streets. He soon pulled up in front of the house Jack directed him to. "Well, I guess this is good night." He brought Jack's hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to the knuckles then to the delicate inner wrist where Jack's pulse pounded.

"I guess it is." Jack felt his breath catch in his throat at the gentle kisses. "Thank you for everything tonight, Kozmotis. I don't think I've enjoyed myself this much for a very long time."

"With me, this will be one time of many." Pitch looked up at the house and the curtains being pulled aside. "We're being watched. Seems your family is curious about your rich date."

The werewolf groaned, looking over at the house. "Those are my friends. They're practically like family I guess. I'll never hear the end of it now about how they were right to force me to the club last night. So," Jack turned to him with a sly look. "I only asked to be dropped off here because they were borrowing my truck. I don't suppose I could get you to drive me to my apartment and I could get it another time?"

"Tell me where to go."

Jack laughed at North and Sandy's faces as the car pulled away again. "It's this complex up here." He pointed towards the set of apartments and directed Pitch to the lot in front of his. "Well, that one's mine."

"Hmm." Pitch turned to Jack and softly brushed his thumb across Jack's lips. "If your friends start bothering you again, you can distract them by telling them about this." He leaned over and pressed a kiss to the corner of Jack's mouth. "Good night, Jack."

"I...goodnight." His face lit up in red again for the umpteenth time that night. "Thanks again for the lift." He unbuckled his seatbelt in a fluster.

"I'll wait here. Text me once you're in your apartment. I want to make sure you get there safely."

Jack nodded and stumbled out of the car. He gave a wave before heading up to his place. Three flights of stairs later he reached the third floor landing. He looked down from unlocking his door to wave at the red car still waiting in the lot. As soon as his door was shut and locked, he leaned against the wood, sinking to the floor. Home safe, he texted the man below. Thanks again.

Anytime, Jack. Good night.

Night.