So, I totally thought I could manage posting something every day, like I did last BlackIce, but I forgot that I wasn't working that week, while I worked four (longish) days this BlackIce week. OTL

This chapter was really difficult to write because I kept squicking out. Honestly, it was written sentences at a time. Like, write a sentence, nope out, come back the next day, repeat. It's also the main source of creepy for this fic (I blame Pitch's POV). People seemed to think that when I said things creeped me out, I meant the other spirit. Nope. I meant this chapter and everything that it implies. Make of it what you will.

Jack lays sprawled beneath him. So peaceful, so relaxed, so beautiful in his sleep. Pitch reaches out a hand to push snow white bangs off a pale forehead. Jack doesn't stir.

Bringing his other hand to join the first, he cups Jack's face and lightly brushes the lids of closed eyes with the pads of his thumbs. Still nothing from Jack.

Pitch leans down and presses a kiss to the corner of slightly parted lips as his hands trail down Jack's neck and trace over his collarbone. His lips follow his hands, and Jack finally shifts when he reaches that sensitive spot on his neck. It's not a movement of discomfort, and Jack sleeps on.

Dragging his palms down Jack's bare chest, Pitch marvels at the expansion of lungs, at the rushing of blood, at the beating of a heart. How can Jack appear so at rest when his body is working so hard to keep him alive?

He must also work hard to keep Jack alive. This other spirit they encountered is strange and dangerous. It showed direct hostility toward Jack, so it must be disposed of. Pitch certainly wants nothing more than to obliterate the spirit, but it doesn't cast a shadow. He is a being of shadow and dark. Shadows are his domain, his alone to command and manipulate. But a being outside that realm, a spirit without a shadow, is out of his control. Pitch doesn't like things being out of his control.

But he will find a way around that. To protect Jack.

Pitch takes comfort in the fact that there is something he can control: that hunter girl. He knows Jack likes her, but even such a thing doesn't excuse what she did, thinking she had such a level of familiarity and intimacy with Jack so as to touch him. Despite not being as frightened as she should be, Pitch can tell she is wary of him. Even so, he can work with what she's given him. One thing that continues to bother him about the whole situation is her supposed knowledge of the supernatural. This is potentially very problematic: other spirits he can simply fight, but the tripping and spell casting of humans is a different matter.

But Pitch doesn't have to worry about any of that right now. Right now it's just him and Jack.

His hands trail lower, following the protrusion of Jack's hipbone down to the line of Jack's boxers, the only clothing he wears to bed. He slips his thumbs under the waistband and pulls down, slowly freeing Jack from the material. With a quick glance at Jack's face, Pitch confirms he is still asleep.

Jack is soft, but Pitch plans to correct that soon enough. He shifts down, so his mouth is level with Jack's crotch. Leaning forward, he licks a stripe up Jack's cock. He keeps his eyes on Jack's face the entire time, watching carefully for a reaction. He gets none and is glad of that. As much as he loves to see Jack respond to his ministrations, his goal tonight is simply to reassure himself of his position in Jack's life. Pitch is loath to admit that he needs such a thing, but it is unavoidable.

He takes Jack fully into his mouth, swallowing him down to the base. Twisting and twining his tongue around Jacks' length, he holds his position, not needing air as a human would. He pulls back when Jack moans and shifts, if only to watch Jack's face scrunch up in pleasure.

Being asleep must cause different reactions, because Jack is responding much quicker than he would if he was awake. He's already half-hard by the time Pitch pulls all the way off.

Pitch's hands slip further down, under Jack's knees, lifting them up gradually and hooking them over his own shoulders. With Jack fully exposed, Pitch can't resist much longer. He quickly slides a finger into Jack, the shadowy substance that makes up his body facilitating the intrusion. After several thrusts of his finger, Pitch's patience wears thin and he adds a second. Jack breathes in deeply and Pitch pauses, but resumes moving after seeing that Jack is still asleep.

Once he thinks Jack is opened up enough for him, he removes his fingers and shifts into a better position. He eases in slowly, as to not wake Jack. Buried to the hilt, he simply holds himself there and stares at Jack's face. Other than a slight pulling of muscles around the eyes, there's no indication Jack is aware of what's going on. Pitch would be concerned that Jack is so oblivious if he hadn't used a bit of his own magical influence to deepen Jack's sleep.

The pace Pitch sets is slow; it must be so he doesn't wake Jack. His magic is powerful, but he knows it will not keep Jack under for all disturbances. It may take him a while to reach his peak pleasure, but he has all night.

He keeps his gaze on Jack's face the entire time, noting the subtle changes that occur as he adjusts his angle. Different facial muscles twitch and a variety of sighs, all beautiful, escape Jack's lips. The gasp when Pitch finds the angle he has been seeking is perfection itself.

Jack reacts actively and Pitch takes a risk by speeding up. At the first moan, he pauses completely, waiting for Jack to settle again, to sink down from the surface. It's a form of torture, denying himself full satisfaction, but it's necessary to get any satisfaction at all.

Moving again, it's not long before Pitch is close. His anticipation runs too high, the buildup to this moment becomes too much. Jack's breathing speeds up in time with Pitch's thrusts, a good indication that he is close as well. Wanting to come simultaneously, Pitch wraps his hand around Jack and stokes him gently, attempting to time it correctly and not wake Jack up.

At the coiling of the familiar tightness in his stomach, Pitch moves his hand faster. With a final thrust, he comes with a soft grunt, quiet enough to not disturb Jack and to hear the low whine Jack releases as he comes as well. Pitch catches Jack's come in his hand so it won't leave a trace on his body. He licks it from his fingers, savoring the taste.

After several moments, Pitch finally pulls out. He watches his own shadowy come spill out from Jack and then dissolve into the rest of the darkness. At least that's what it seems to do. Most beings with normal eyesight would perceive it as such, but Pitch's vision improves with the shadows and the dark. He can see the way it sinks into Jack's skin, becomes a part of him, infects him. That darkness in Jack . . . it makes him even more beautiful.

Just my thoughts on the chapter:

he knows it will not keep Jack under for all disturbances.

he knows it will not keep Jack under for all disturbances.

he knows it will not keep Jack under for all disturbances.

he KNOWS it will not keep Jack under for all disturbances.