CHAPTER THREE- KISSES, DISSES, AND "OH FUCK I MISSED"S

This shit goes on for eight months. Jack and Aster dance around each other, until they finally bring their "whirlwind romance" to a head.

Aster proposes on a sunny Saturday, at the park they had their first date. It's sweet, it's sentimental, and by god, Jack was ready to go gag behind a tree over how goddamn sugar-coated it was.

But that was beside the point.

They begin planning a wedding, both with the seasoned experience of someone who's done this more than once. They do all the usual bullshit, they bicker over colour schemes and locations and Jack always gets his way. Jack insists that he gets to invite his childhood friend Toothiana, while Aster agrees as long as his best friend Nickolas is allowed to make an appearance.

Somewhere along the line they end up actually fucking. The sex is pretty good, Jack will admit. Aster would say the same when asked, but only with North and only if Jack's on the other side of the city.

Month nine is when Jack officially moves in.

They get married during month ten, on a mildly cloudy day in late August. They rent out a ridiculously over the top ballroom, coating it in blues and whites (Jack's choice), and with a vegetarian meal plan (Aster's input). It's all very fancy and wonderful, and Aster's ready to go and puke in the begonias by the end of it, but he presses on.

Month eleven is when things go horribly, wonderfully wrong.

Their house is over the top, nice and white with a picket fence and an impeccably maintained garden in the front. It's large bay windows look out onto the suburban street they've found themselves on.

Jack can't fucking stand it.

To him the house is garish and overly empty, lacking in any real homey feelings. It makes Jack uncomfortable, and he constantly feels like he's running around an Ikea ad every time he walks around his own house. It unnerves him, more than he'd like to admit. He muscles through it, however, because he knows that the time for endgame strategy has come.

And Jack knows his husband will be underground within the week if all his plans align, and thus is currently wandering the house and preparing for the inevitable escape.

It was all a simple matter of timing.

But it's as he's contemplating the delightful thoughts of murdering his spouse that a harsh banging on the door echoes through the empty house. Jacks' head snaps up from where he'd been dutifully scrubbing away at the doorknob on the bathroom door, not having expected a visitor.

Bunny's gone off to work or whatever, Jack really didn't give enough of a fuck to listen, so it couldn't be him, and Jack didn't exactly have a lot of friends... save for one.

Oh.

"Coming Tooth!" Jack shouts, already scurrying down the stairs as the knocking grows more and more frantic.

"Jeeze, hold your horses."

He nearly knocks over the novelty umbrella stand as he opens the door, only just catching it with his foot as Tooth barrels into him with such a speed it nearly sends both of them crashing onto the marble flooring. Jack lies on the floor after impact, stunned into a pile of gangly limbs and hurting head. Tooth, however, is up like a shot and slamming the door behind her in a frenzy.

Tooth looks panicked, twitching to and fro as she scans the surrounding house with fever. Her wild hair has become even more unmanageable, and she truthfully looks like she hasn't slept in a few days.

"Is Aster here?" She hisses, glaring into the house with fearful eyes.

Jack's own eyes narrow in confusion as he picks himself up from the ground. "No?" He lets it trial off in a questioning manner, Tooth visibly relaxes, shoulders slumping with a sigh.

"Oh thank god," She murmurs, "We've got a problem."

Jack can only look at her, his expression going from confused to full of perplexed as she scurries into the house like she owns the damn place. Jack follows after her in a flurry of limbs, demanding to know what the problem is.

"It's your mark." She says bluntly, slamming her fist into the wall. "I knew there was something wrong with him, I knew it!"

"What do you mean, something wrong?" Jack hisses, grabbing at her hand before she can bring it down again, "Is he broke? Tooth, does he know?"

"No. It's worse."

Jack's puzzled face saves him from having to ask the question. Tooth turns to look at him with eyes full of fear.

"He's one of us." She whispers, covering her mouth with her hand. "Jack, he's one of us!"

(THIS IS A LINE, ISN'T IT BEAUTIFUL?)

Aster can't help but feel content at this exact moment in time, because he's sitting in North's house with his feet up, and he has beer.

It's a simple comfort, but by god it's enough to make him happy.

He'd told Jack he's been off to work, when in actuality he'd been mostly hanging around and mooching off of North's TV and snacks. Had to go somewhere, he supposed, and North's couch was so dang comfortable it was a crime for it to not be in use while the fat Russian was out of town on grisly business.

Aster's getting geared up to complete the con, but he's trying to find a way to kill the weedy bastard. Jack would be easy to kill, he was smaller than Aster and it would be no big issue to sneak up behind him and kill him in some grisly way. Bunny was sure of it. North would be back by tomorrow, and he actually had convinced the Russian to help him bury the body when all was said and done. It was a matter of waiting for North to get back, and then that night Jack would be dead before he knew what hit him.

Or, at least, that was the plan.

Because as Aster's planning a multitude of grisly deaths for his husband, his cell phone (his actual cell phone, not the one he used around Jack) rang with urgency. North's name is highlighted on the caller display, meaning that Aster actually has to answer this one ugh.

"Y'allo." He says after picking up, still half paying attention to the footie game on the screen.

"Ah, Bunny!" North's voice crows through the other end. "Is Jack around?"

"Wha- why?"

"Because I am finding something very strange about him."

"Whaddya mean?"

"Is very strange indeed my friend..."

Aster grumbles at that. "North just cut the crap already come on. Is he broke? Dying? What is it?"

"Have you ever heard of Jack Frost?"

"... oh fuck no. Fuck no."

Jack Frost wasn't so much of a legend within the crime circle, more like someone who really got his name out there without actually showing his face. Jack Frost, Aster knew, played the same game as he did.

Jack Frost was a force to be trifled with, he also knew, as apparently he could lay waste to an entire SWAT team with little to no trouble on his own.

North's laughing on the other end of the phone, the bastard, as Aster is forced to sit back down onto the couch in shock.

"Yer telling me that I am married to Jack bloody Frost."

"Da." North snickers. "You truly know how to pick them, old friend."

Aster runs a hand through his hand in exasperated exhaustion.

"He's gotta go." Aster says resolutely. "Now."

"My thoughts exactly."

(THIS IS A LINE, ISN'T IT BEAUTIFUL?)

Aster goes back to the house at six forty five on the dot, as he as for the past few months. The hand gun pressing against his lower back is cold, but solid as he enters through the front door. Aster can hear Jack's humming coming from the kitchen, some mindless little tune that Aster's never heard before. The clattering of pots and pans ring from the kitchen as Jack cooks something or another is prominent as Aster heads further into the house, stopping to kiss Jack once before peering over the white haired boy's shoulder to gaze into the pasta sauce on the stove below.

"What's this then?" He asks in a joking tone.

"Spaghetti and meatballs," Jack says, stirring another pot, "Even with that gross vegetarian sauce you like."

Aster can't help but be happy at that, no matter how annoying Jack actually was the kid could cook a damn fine dinner. His handgun burns a hole from where it was tucked into his jean waistband.

"Sounds perfect love." Is what he says, trying to ignore the nerves skittering up and down his spine.

He leaves Jack then, claiming to go want to set the table so Jack wouldn't have to.

Once Aster leaves the room Jack looks to the open entryway to the dining room with a scrutinizing look, shrugging, and uncapping a very small vial of what he knows to be cyanide. Without any flourish in the slightest he tips the poison into the sauce, covering the movement with a roll of his shoulders.

Another glance behind him shows that Aster was still occupied with the setting of the dining room table, and thus had no clue. Jack's heart beats a mile a minute as he quickly trashes the vial with the leftover packaging that had been from the food he was currently working with.

A smirk crawls across his face as he stirs the sauce a few more times, the colour of the liquid a vicious crimson. He adds a dash of lemon to counter what he knows is a salty, bitter taste.

When Aster re-enters the kitchen he helps Jack to spoon pasta and sauce onto their plates, before they both head into the dining room, amicably chattering about their days. They're both lying through their teeth. As they sit Jack watches his husband with rapt attention, waiting for Aster to start eating.

Aster himself, not taking a bite, watches Jack back, warily reaching under the table to where he had duct taped the gun while he had been setting the table. They both eye at each other, waiting for their own times to strike.

The table falls to silence as they stare, waiting for the other to make a move.

Jack's the one that breaks the silence.

"Aren't you hungry?" He asks, seemingly worried. Aster's not stupid enough to believe his tone. "I thought you loved my cooking. Is there something wrong?"

Aster can pick up on the slight hint of malice, not noticeable unless someone was listening for it. Something's up, best to act quickly.

"Nothin's wrong." Aster says quickly, ripping the gun from it's tape-y hold and pointing it right between Jack's eyes. "Nothin' at all."

Baby blue eyes go as wide as saucers, and Aster pulls the trigger before he can think against it.

The bullet shatters the picture frame that had been behind Jack, obviously digging through the drywall behind it. Jack had dived out of the way, then. Aster's at his feet immediately, almost knocking the table over in his haste.

He just barely catches the slip of blue darting back into the kitchen. Jack's a runner, then. He sprints for the doorway, but is forced to slam himself to the wall holding the doorframe as a knife goes whizzing past, deadly in it's accuracy as it embeds itself into the opposite wall.

Oh, so Frost wanted to play, was that it?

"Give it up Bunnymund," Jack says from within the kitchen. "This isn't going to end well for either of us if we keep this up."

He's got a point, not that Aster will ever admit it. He chances a glance around the doorway again, only to be forced back by another knife. He gets a flash of silver hair and angry blue eyes from behind the upturned kitchen table before losing a small amount of hair to the projectile.

"You're gunna run out of knives eventually, Frost." Bunnymund counters, "And I'm the one with the gun. If it's going to end badly for one of us, it's you."

He hears Jack honest to god snarl at that, and it's enough to get Aster to rethink this course of action. A secondary doorway that led out to the front hall lay to the left, but to get there he'd have to brave crossing the kitchen-entrance and possibly another onslaught of knives flying towards his person. If he could get there, though, he'd be at a better point of advantage, and would be able to flush Frost out into the open.

With a great sigh, Aster decides to go with door number one.

A burst of speed gets him across the doorway, but as he bolts for the exit he feels something hard slam into the back of his head. Perhaps the butt of a knife? Aster doesn't stop to think as he skids through the exit, slamming his back into the wall of the entrance way. The back of his skull pounds like a bitch, and Aster looks behind him to see what exactly had been thrown.

"Did you actually just throw a spoon at me!?" He yells in agitation. The spoon itself lies on the floor of the dining room, having clattered to the floor after bouncing off of Aster's head ow.

He can hear the laughter in Jack's voice as the kid replies with "You weren't worth the knife."

Bunnymund can feel his eye twitch. They both go quiet, panting and trying to find another plan of attack. Aster takes this time to creep down the hall towards the kitchen, slowly and silently. The doorway to the actual kitchen has a swinging door on it, so he can't actually see what Jack's doing, but hopefully it was crawling out the window and running.

Hopefully.

Once he hits the door proper, Aster steels his grip on his handgun and kicks in the door with a shout. His gun goes off without his actual consent, his hand tightening as he jumps and rolls into the kitchen. The bullet shatters the glass window that was above the sink, but Aster doesn't really care too much.

Because he's too busy looking for Jack, who had somehow disappeared.

He resumes his creeping around, large feet barely making a noise as he steps carefully towards the kitchen table, which was still upturned. With a quick movement he jumps behind it, gun at the ready, but is surprised when there's no sign of Jack. He backs up a bit, suddenly wary.

"Where are ya?" He murmurs to himself, green eyes flicking at a mile a minute.

"Here." Comes a mocking voice from directly behind him oh shit-

A knife presses into his throat and Aster can feel the weight of Jack's front suddenly press up against his back. Knowing how much shorter Jack is than Aster, Bunnymund knows they must look ridiculous. It's hard to think, though, as the knife taps lightly against his neck and Jack whispers in his ear.

"Hows about you drop the gun, hm?" Jack says, in no way questioning. Aster can't help but notice the sudden change in tone that Jack has, he's never once heard Jack talk in such a manner. How much had Jack changed for his role? Aster himself never really changed much, maybe was a bit nicer but that was it.

Jack had apparently turned into a whole other person.

Which kind of scares the shit out of him.

Aster drops the gun like it burned him.

"Good, thanks." Jack says, still methodically tapping the knife against Aster's jugular. "Now this is quite the predicament, isn't it? I'm assuming you're broke?"

Tap. Tap. Tap.

"I'm taking your silence as a yes. If I'm honest, so am I."

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

"So where do go from here?"

Aster response is less than eloquent, in that he responds with grabbing Jack's arm, the one holding the knife, and managing to heft the kid up and over his shoulder, slamming him onto the Italian marble tiles. Jack lets out a shout as he's suddenly air born, and another, more girly shriek as he slams to the floor.

Bunny works quickly, kicking Jack's lax hand and sending the knife skattering away, grabbing his fallen gun, and quickly pinning Jack by straddling him; Bunny holding his hands with one tanned hand and pressing the gun to a white haired temple with the other. Jack stares at Bunny with something akin to shock, but to Bunny's surprise he doesn't show fear.

When Aster clicks back the hammer, however, the fear does crawl onto Jack's face. Bunny refuses to acknowledge the small, creeping sense of guilt at having put it there.

"Is it too late to call a truce?" Jack says, blue eyes never leaving Aster's green ones. Bunny glares down at him, and the kid instantly shuts his mouth. That's all Jack is, though, a kid. Jack had said he was 23, but Aster hadn't believed him. Still doesn't actually.

With a sigh he brings the gun away from Jack's temple. Jack visibly relaxes once the metal is out of his face, but doesn't dare squirm in Aster's grip lest it come back.

"Yer lucky yer cute." Is all he says as he gets off Jack, not standing. Jack sits up and they stare at each other, sitting on the cold floor and panting heavily.

They stare at each other in apprehension, warily searching for any form of aggression. The kitchen is silent, save for the steady dripping of pasta sauce coming from the dining room. Jack twitches slightly with each noise, flinching just slightly every time Aster makes to move. They sit like that for a good ten minutes, suddenly being forced to size the other up as a possible opponent as opposed to a mark. It's a very disconcerting experience.

"So." Aster finally mutters sullenly. "Where do we go from here?"

Jack refuses to meet his eyes, picking at some loose grout in the tiles. "I don't know," is what he says. "I can safely say I've never been in a position such as this."

That startles a laugh out of Bunny. "Yeah, same here."

Their eyes meet in a clash of green and blue, and Bunny's surprised to see all pretenses of ditzyness completely gone from Jack's eyes, replaced with a cold, calculating mischief.

He can't help but admit it's pretty hot.

Jack finally lets a large sigh of air escape, visibly deflating into the tiles. He runs a hand along his face, then up through his hair, and then down his neck.

"I don't know about you," He says calmly. "But I am tired as hell. I'd like to think you're not going to shoot me in the face as I sleep, so I am going to bed."

With than he stands, back creaking slightly. Aster sits on the floor and watches him go. However, once he hears Jack ascending the Maplewood stairs he gets a though.

"Oi!" He shouts, sprinting after Frost. "You ain't gettin' the bed to yerself."

Jack stops halfway up the stairs, looks at him appraisingly, and then holds up one finger. "I've got a solution." He says before disappearing back up the stairs.

Aster waits patiently from the bottom of the staircase for a few minutes, hearing a few shuffling noises from the second floor.

Which is why he's hardly surprised as the spare comforter from the linen closet and the pillows from his half of the bed come flying down the stairs with a soft whomph.

"You are sleeping on the couch." Jack's voice comes from the second floor.

"Why did I get pinned with the couch?!" Aster shouts back in anger.

"Because I'm cute." Is all Jack says in response.

Little shit.

With a grumble of acceptance Aster picks his way to the other end of the house, over to the living room where the hard, unforgiving, Ikea couch lays in wait. Bloody perfect. With a disheartened sigh he haphazardly tosses the pillows onto one end of the couch and the blanket onto the other, finally throwing himself down with a disgruntled flop.

The ceiling is white and plain, and Aster stares at it because he has literally nothing else to do. All of his books were up in the bedroom, as he liked to read before bed. Jack had said he had as well, but for all Aster knows that might have been a lie as well.

It's just as he's falling asleep that he realizes that he misses having Jack curled up next to him.

A/N I have no excuse for this being so damn late other than I totally lost steam. I know it's not much, seeing as there's the huge onslaught of one-shots that I've been posting, but I've gotten my Con-man-Au groove back, so updates should actually... you know... happen now. Also, I'll have it known that I've finally set up a proper writing blog over at "littlemissloll" on tumblr, where I'm currently going to be posting and updating and such.