Ughhh…. Not enough suggestions for a title… I CAN'T PICK!

Hey- maybe if I get enough ideas, I'll post them up at the beginning of the next chapter and you guys can vote. How's that sound? Of course, I could just leave it this way… Cu the fact that it needs a title sort of does fit with the story… (As it was pointed out to me.)

Now then… More of… whatever I'm calling this for now…

Pitch's editor read over his latest rough draft. His skilled eyes found any little mistake, any little loop hole, and weren't bothered in the least by his dark material. (They had been business partners since Pitch got his start.) In fact, when he was all done, he was smiling.

"I've gotta say, Pitch, this is a little dark, even for you," the man chuckled, "Goodness, you speak so fondly of this kid who you've got killing your protagonist. It's like you want him to kill you." Shrugging with half a smile, Pitch didn't answer as his bright red pen scratched over the pages he printed. Once he had finished writing all the changes that needed to be made, he handed the papers back to him. "It's good. It's got a very seductive feel to it so far. But there are some areas you need to touch up."

Standing with the papers, he grumbled, "When is there not?" His editor laughed and said goodbye as Pitch walked out.

He took a slow walk to a park, deciding it would be best to read over the comments that would probably make him angry enough to scream in a public place where he had to keep calm. He sat alone on a bench, earned a few wary looks from parents with their kids, and crossed one leg over the other. He then began scanning the white sheets, reading the man's scribbly hand-writing. Eventually he was so aggravated by the changes he was demanding from him that he had to force himself to look away. The pulsing in his head was too much.

Didn't really help to look away, though… Anyone he saw in red made his blood boil. He was ready to stab the color red- but that would create more red, which would make him angrier. Inhaling deeply, closing his eyes, Pitch had to mentally keep himself in check. It would do no good to kill someone and prove all those idiots out on the internet right. He wasn't like the men in his books (though he'd very much like to be); he couldn't just go around stabbing people through the heart.

It took a while longer after that for him to get his head straight. Walking through the park, making notes on all the things he could transform into a nightmare for readers- once he turned a stop sign into a murder weapon. He got quite a lot of fan mail for that. Chuckling to himself, he decided to head back home.

Dropping off his things in his study, Pitch walked to his kitchen to grab a drink when he noticed the blinking red light on his landline phone. Frowning, furrowing his brow, he pressed the button and sipped from a glass of water as the message played back.

"Ello Pitch!" the voice bellowed through the speakers.

Swallowing, Pitch muttered, "Christ… Nick…"

"Pitch, I know you are home- you never leave! Why you choosing to ignore me? Anyvay, anyvay, I called for reason," the voice continued.

Rolling his eyes and sipping more water, Pitch grumbled, "Of course you did…"

"Jack vas vondering if you had copy of one of your books." Now Pitch was listening. "He says he wants to read one. Seems you left quite the impression! Hahaha! Anyvay, come over later if you have one! And stay for dinner! You need to eat more!"

With that the jolly man said his goodbye, leaving Pitch smirking in silence. Jack was wondering about his books? Hmmm… Well, of course he had copies. He had a copy of all of his books- he was given a complimentary copy each time he published. But Jack most likely wouldn't be interested in reading forty two books. Looking through his babies, Pitch chose one of his lightest reads, one of his gentlest, and then one of his darkest.

Driving down Nick's street was always tricky- children constantly seemed to be popping out from behind cars every which way. He literally had to crawl at less than five miles an hour to avoid hurting anyone. Where the hell were their parents? He scowled when he finally got to Nick's house. It took him a half hour longer than necessary. Was the world trying to keep him from his Jack? Oh, great, now he was possessive of the child… Rolling his eyes at his own idiocy, Pitch stepped out, grabbed his books, and went to the front door.

He rang the doorbell and heard scrambling behind it. He wasn't sure if he should be concerned or amused- it sounded like someone was barreling over objects to get to the door. It flung open in that moment, revealing the very person Pitch desperately wanted to see- Jack.

The boy looked overjoyed in the first split second, then he took in who was in front of him and his entire face went pink. Smiling lightly, Pitch asked, "Expecting someone else?"

Jack stammered dumbly, quickly curling in on himself out of embarrassment. "I-I-uh-I-Ni-Nick w-was-s-u-ppo-osed t-to com-me back." Pitch couldn't help but smile further- Jack knew that he had made an absolute racket when he rushed the door, and now he was ashamed he had.

Just as Pitch was about to answer, a loud, booming voice erupted behind him, and a ferocious pat on the back knocked him forward a step or two. "PITCH!" Nick shouted to him, "You've made it!"

Lifting himself back up, clearing his throat, Pitch turned his attention back to the man who invited him. "Yes," he replied.

"Then you got my message!" he said gleefully.

Nodding, Pitch responded, "I did. But you may find this hard to believe, I was out when you called. Had a meeting with my editor… Working on my newest story."

Smile wide as his head, Nick looked to Jack. "Hear that Jack?" he roared with his joy, "A new book!" Pitch turned his head to look at the teen- the moment he did the boy looked away from him. (Had he been staring?) Nick continued laughing. "Jack has been asking so many questions about you, Pitch!" Now Jack was looking back up at Nick- he looked horrified. Smiling at his embarrassment, Pitch watched his expression get more mortified as Nick continued talking. (Jack's cheeks seemed to get redder with each word Nick said.) "He kept asking if you would let him read one, or borrow one! And then he'd ask if your wife, course I told him don't have a wife, liked your books. He asked why you skin vas grey, too, and then he asked if you were from England!"

Now Pitch couldn't help himself. Looking away from his precious blue eyed doll, he said, "Nick, I don't think Jack appreciates all that you're telling me." Nick was obviously going to continue- how many questions had Jack asked?

"Ah, yes, you can answer all questions tonight!" Nick said, grabbing hold of Pitch's shoulder and motioning them both inside, "Come, come! In! We all talk in TV room!"

Pitch sat in one of Nick's many rocking chairs- his wife loved them- and then remembered why he had even shown up. Pulling out the books, he addressed the teen who currently was trying to fix the quilt on his seat, "Oh, yes, Jack, I almost forgot." He held out the books to him. "I've brought you three of my works. If you'd like to read one, you may."

Jack took the three from him and scanned the covers. He smiled a little and asked, "W-what're they about?"

"Well," Pitch said, pointing to the thinnest book, "This is one of my first. It's a very light read. The story revolves around a man who is tormented by the memory of his father. It has a very graphic end, mind you." Jack nodded slowly, mouth going from a perfect circle to a flat line. Then Pitch pointed to the book with the black cover and said, "This is one of my least violent books. The story follows a troubled boy who sees creatures in the shadows. In the end he is found inexplicably dead. The reader is left to decide what caused it."

"So… does… does that mean you don't mention injuries?" Jack asked, looking u once before looking back at the book. (Was he afraid to look at him?)

"No, there are injuries…" Pitch said, watching the boy's face- his eyes were flicking back and forth over the cover of the books, sometimes stopping as he spoke to just stare forward. "And the last book is one of my darkest. The story is about a widow who kills everyone who enters her house. Even her own children." Jack swallowed softly after that. Smiling, Pitch said, "You choose which sounds best to you…"

"Oh.. Okay…" Jack breathed, eyes lifting back up to look at him again. Pitch gave him a coy smile- he distinctly saw Jack's eyelids flutter at it. Swallowing again, the boy shifted. "Uh… Actually… Co… Could I read all of them?" he wasn't looking at him anymore.

Pitch looked at Nick, whom he had honestly all but forgotten just now. "Well, that depends. Nicholas, would you allow Jack to read the widow's book?" he asked. Jack lifted his head and quickly looked to Nick as well.

"Of course! I cannot decide what scares Jack- he vill have to read and see if he gets nightmares!" the big man said with a happy laugh.

Jack stuttered after that, like he was going to retort in some way, but thought better of it. Pitch liked watching him get all jittery like this. It made him seem all the more innocent. Would someone innocent be eager to read books on murder and rape?

The three of them sat together, Nick continuing to make comments about questions Jack had asked. Pitch couldn't really care any less about what Jack had asked- Jack had been asking, that was all that mattered. Jack was curious about him. He watched the gorgeous boy as this discourse went on. After Nick mentioned that Jack asked if Pitch was 'a whips and chains sort of guy' the teen seemed incapable of holding back his disapproval.

He whined loudly at him. Pitch got chills from the sound; so very close to a moan. Ohh, Jack… Mm… His eyes fell shut and he just listened, imagining all sorts of naughty things he could do to make Jack sound like that again. Mmmm… He hummed appreciatively.

The sound of the door opening, then closing brought Pitch out of his fantasy. Nick's wife was home. He offered her a small smile and a polite wave before turning his gaze back to… Pitch instantaneously felt his pants get far too tight. Jack was on his knees, facing away from him, ass sticking out, as he whined at Nick about embarrassing him. Oh, God, why had he closed his eyes?

He tried to control his salivating as he stared at the boy's body in the most inappropriate ways. That ass… So… Pitch had to bite his lip it was turning him on so quickly- Jack was wriggling a little as he and Nick argued back and forth about what he had said. The way his hips wiggled… Pitch couldn't take it.

"Ah, terribly sorry Nick, but I need to use the restroom," he said, practically jumping out of his seat and running to the small room.

Once inside, Pitch collapsed down against the wall and yanked himself free of his clothing. Grabbing his hard-on, he closed his eyes and let the image of Jack's perfectly swaying ass take over. He didn't need much more than that. Just… so… ready to be taken… "Ahh…" he gasped back a tiny moan as he pumped himself, "Mm- yes. Jack… F-fuck, yes…" Closing his eyes tight, grabbing hold of a bath paper towel, Pitch covered himself as he came. He could practically hear Jack moaning. "Oohh…" he whispered out the last mewl of a moan, slowly easing himself out of the high of orgasm. Licking his suddenly dry lips, Pitch cleaned himself up and tossed the paper into the toilet. (Getting rid of the evidence) After washing his hands he returned to the room where he left his company.

Jack was still there, skimming over one of his books already, Nick was out in the kitchen talking to his wife. Apparently he hadn't told her that he'd invited his old friend over. Rolling his eyes, Pitch returned to his seat: startling Jack in the process.

Smiling at the boy, he said, "Sorry if I scared you."

Jack gave him a little smile back. "It's okay," he said, looking back down at the page he had his fingers on. "Uh, actually, I was wondering- what's Aagrerr-eeus mean?"

Pitch blinked in confusion. "What?" he asked.

"Aagreegerr… Uhmm…" Jack's pout was absolutely perfect. Pitch could just kiss- no, no. Stop it. He pointed down at the page. Getting up, Pitch walked over and sat down on the arm of the cushy rocking chair beside him. He looked down at the word Jack was pointing at.

"Oh," he said, smiling a little, "It's egregious. It means, in this context, extremely bad. Or surprisingly bad."

Jack furrowed his brow and looked at the word. Pitch chuckled as he tried mouthing it. Patting him lightly on the back, he said, "It's alright… Tough word, I know…" After explaining that Pitch didn't take his hand away from Jack. He continued rubbing his back in slow, methodic circles. He felt the boy stiffen immediately when he did. Smiling fondly, Pitch continued stroking his fingers back and forth across his shoulders. He hummed quietly behind him.

Now Jack's breathing was getting fast. Smiling more, Pitch asked in a voice just loud enough for only Jack to hear, "Do I make you nervous?"

"M-mm-m…" Jack whimpered in his response. Pitch's fingers went a little lower, gently caressing the center of Jack's back. The teen gasped upon first touch.

Licking his teeth, Pitch whispered, "It's alright if I do… I understand… Most boys aren't… accustomed.. to someone like me…" He made sure to drag a single finger up Jack's back as he finished the sentence. He felt him shiver under his touch. "You're orphaned, is that right…? Aster mentioned it to me…"

Jack nodded his head. "Y-yes…" he whispered back. Pitch sighed at the sound of that word coming from the boy's lips.

"Mmm, say that again Jack…"

He felt him inhaled sharply. "M-mister Pitch… you're scaring me…" he whimpered. Smiling in spite of being put off, Pitch pulled his hand away.

"My apologies," he whispered. "Any other words you were having trouble with?"

Jack shook his head. Nodding once, Pitch got up and returned to his previous seat. Jack seemed to have his head buried in the book now- hiding? Pitch could see the curves of his cheeks; he could plainly see how red they were. Not only was he hiding in the book, but Jack lifted his legs and curled them up close to his body. Pitch knew that was a subconscious way humans tried to put barriers between something they felt threatened or frightened by.

Watching him for a while longer, Pitch allowed himself to drink in his appearance. From the way his toes curled in when he read, to the way his hair hung just above his eyes. Jack had freckles. Not many, and the few he had were barely visible, but they were endearing. Pitch noticed that Jack had long, almost feminine fingers. He could clearly see the largest veins in his hands- he wanted to touch them. Jack's nose was small and curved slightly up at the end. His ears did nothing to mess his hair- his hair curved around them. Pitch wished he could run his fingers through that snow white hair.

"Is your hair naturally that color Jack?" he asked after a while of ogling him.

Blinking those big blue eyes up at him, Jack replied, "Uh… Yeah… Sorta… My hair's been losing color since I was little… Guess I got early greys…" Pitch smiled at the sad attempt at a chuckle Jack used to end that. Still nervous. He understood that. Hell, he had just masturbated to him in Nick's bathroom!

Watching him for a while longer, he was pleasantly surprised to find Jack closing the book. "Finished already?" he asked, grinning. Jack looked up and smiled. He nodded and moved the books around. "Quite the fast reader," Pitch said.

Jack blushed lightly at that. "Teachers usually think I skip the readings I get done so fast," he said, "They make me read the assignments again…"

"I'll bet you still finish before anyone else," Pitch said, watching as Jack's smile grew at that. Apparently all he needed to do to get Jack to trust him was not try to feel him up. Simple enough.

"I do, actually," the teen replied, re-situating himself on the chair. Now he was facing him fully. He was much more open in body language- legs slightly spread at the knees, arms resting on his legs; upper half leaned forward ever so slightly. He looked more comfortable this way. "I, uh," Jack cleared his throat lightly; "I used to be the one all my friends turned to when we had to read books for homework. I'd get them done in the first ten minutes and they'd all ask me for the answers."

Pitch smiled. "Not easy being the brightest in a group of people is it?"

"No," Jack replied, still smiling. Then there was a little bit of silence. They stared at each other for a while- neither one seemingly willing to break the eye contact. Pitch licked his lips- Jack did the second after he started to. Pitch felt like if they were a little bit closer he could have kissed him and Jack would have willingly complied. He tested Jack's receptiveness in that moment- he let his eyelids fall ever so slightly and he leaned back in his seat. Jack responded by leaning forward a little more. Smirking, not breaking the eye contact, Pitch let the tiniest moan slip past his lips. Jack gasped the moment he did and Pitch saw him wiggle a little- and was that an answering moan he just heard? Maybe this boy was just as attracted to him as he was in return.

"Do you like what you see Jack…?" he asked softly, barely even spoke it, actually. It was the ghost of a whisper on the wind. He moved one of his legs, spreading himself open for the teen.

Now Jack's eyes left Pitch's. He looked down at Pitch's legs, his body, and then he looked back up at him. "I…" Jack began; lips trembling visibly even from Pitch's distance. They were interrupted as Nick shouted that it was time for food. Jack visibly jumped when he did- Pitch snarled to himself and moved back to how he had been sitting before their intimate moment. Jack looked over at him, eyes scanning how he was now, as if he were wondering if he had imagined the whole thing.

Slowly getting to his feet, Pitch tried not to notice the fact that he was aroused again. Not nearly as bad as earlier, but still significant enough for him to feel uncomfortable in his pants. He allowed Jack to walk out to the kitchen before he did, if for no other reason than to watch that ass again.

God, how he wanted to kiss that boy. He wanted to drag him into his bed to tear off his clothes and ravage him all night. He wanted to claim Jack Frost for himself. Maybe even settle down with him. He did want someone special in his life, didn't he? Who said he couldn't have a teenager?

ME. Pitch- THIS. IS. NOT. HOW. YOU. DATE.