This is the first day I've chosen to be here, Jack thinks.
He's sitting on the balcony with his breakfast, delivered while Jack was taking a bath. At the knock at the door he went into the main room wearing only a towel and the nervous young man who'd brought the food blushed the whole time, refusing to look at him. Jack's already decided that he's going to try and talk to him next time. Even if he's going to be here for four weeks, he needs people to talk to. He needs friends.
For now, though, he doesn't mind a little time alone. He has a lot to think about. It's only been a few days since he was running across the roof tops with Jamie but so much has changed. He's changed. He chose to take on this responsibility – something he's always shied away from before. Is that why his father forced him into this rather than offering him the choice? Because he thought that Jack would be too selfish, too immature?
Jack closes his eyes and clenches his jaw, breathing deeply. No. He's not going to blame himself for this. And he's not going to keep thinking about Lunanoff, either. He's not going to dwell on the past. He's here now; he's going to make the most of it.
After all, Umbra is an incredible place. Just his rooms are full of amazing things and there's a whole world out there to explore. Even if he only goes out into the palace and the grounds, that will be as much freedom as he's ever had. After all, he's always been restricted by the dome; this is just a smaller dome. He just needs to convince Pitch to trust him.
And Pitch – there is another thing to explore. He can't stop replaying last night in his mind. What does it mean, the way his body reacts so readily to Pitch's touch? His experiments with Jamie were just that; they were fuelled by curiosity, not – whatever this is. This is a roaring hearth fire, a fever, something completely out of his control that is terrifying and thrilling and he wants more. He wishes he knew more about sex. He barely even knows what he wants, other than kisses and touches and Pitch's body against his.
He sits for another moment, eating the last of the sweet, flaky bread, and then stands, wiping his hands on his robe and going to get the books. Bringing them out onto the balcony, he flicks to the intimate paintings of courtesans with their kings or queens. One of them has a young man is locked in an embrace with a queen who smiles at him with love in her eyes. Another is using their hand to pleasure their king – that at least is something Jack has a little experience of. But the painting that captures his attention has the courtesan using his mouth to pleasure the king. Jack touches the picture and tries to imagine doing that to Pitch. Would he like it? And what if Pitch did it to him – how would it feel?
Biting his lip, Jack slides his hand down his body and reaches into his robe. He takes his cock in hand and starts to stroke it, feeling himself start to get hard. Closing his eyes, he thinks about what it would be like to have Pitch's cock in his mouth, to feel the weight of it on his tongue. About how it would taste, about how Pitch would tangle his fingers in his hair–
There's a knock at the door and Jack slams the book shut, scrambling to his feet and pulling his robe closed. Going into the main room he tries, uselessly, to stop himself from blushing, his mind reeling at the thought that he was touching himself while thinking about Pitch.
Onyx enters first and she smiles warmly at him. "How are you feeling today, Jack?"
"Good, thanks," Jack says with a weak smile, and turns to greet Pitch – but it's not Pitch who enters. It's a woman who is like no-one he has seen in Umbra. Hair the colour of rust, skin as white as milk. Her dress is scarlet, flowing down to the floor in layers that dance like fire as she walks. And then there is the eyepatch over her left eye, covered in intricate beadwork that matches the pattern of her necklace. She's incredibly striking, a burst of colour in this monochrome world.
She smiles at him and offers her hand. Jack looks at it, remembering Monty's words about no-one but the king being allowed to touch him. He looks at Onyx and sees her lips twitch into a half smile.
"Jack, this is Amber, the Royal Dresser. As she is the one who'll dress you and prepare you for the day, she's the only one other than the king who is allowed to touch you. That's why I'm here, as a chaperone."
Amber laughs and puts her hands on her hips. "Thanks for that introduction, Onyx, it's always best to scare the living daylights out of people the moment they meet me."
"It's just tradition," Onyx says, rolling her eyes. "Don't worry, Jack - Pitch wouldn't let her anywhere near you if he didn't trust her completely."
"Okay," Jack says, amused by seeing the always professional Onyx so easily irked.
"Is that breakfast?" Amber is looking out onto the balcony. "Do you have anything spare? I was so busy getting things finished that I didn't have time this morning."
"Sure," Jack says, at the same time that Onyx gives a mortified gasp of "Amber!"
"Oh please," Amber says, going out onto the balcony and picking up a pastry. "There's enough here to feed a damn battalion."
"That's beside the point," Onyx says, and pauses to take a deep breath, putting her hand over her eyes. "You always do this-"
"Then you should be used to it by now. Here, have a berry."
"I don't want a berry-"
"You love berries. Take it. Jack won't mind."
Jack can't help a laugh and he nods. "Please, take it," he says, waving for Onyx to take it. She does, looking guilty, and then pushes Amber back into the room.
"I'm sorry, Jack," Onyx says, licking the purplish berry juice off her fingers like she's getting rid of the evidence of a crime.
"Don't worry about it. There's more than enough food – I don't mind sharing."
They're interrupted as a rail of clothes is pushed through the door by a footman, followed by a large wooden box. The clothes are all in shades of white, blue and black, mostly sheer. Jack spies some beading and embroidery but mostly they are as simple as the other clothes he's seen since arriving in Umbra.
"I guess that means it's time to get down to business," Amber says, gesturing at the rail. "So here's what I do, Jack. Every morning I'll come here and dress you, get you ready for the day. I made these over the last couple of months, based on the king's preferences and the measurements that the dressers in Lunanoff provided."
The mention of Lunanoff providing the measurements months ago makes Jack's chest tighten but he breathes deep, determined not to let it hurt him. Instead he turns to the rail and looks through the clothes. They're mostly robes, some tunics and trousers. They're far simpler than any of the things he wore at home, or at least the things he was supposed to wear at home. He usually stripped off most of the layers the minute he was away from the dressers, and his preferred outfits were simple trousers and shirts, maybe with a waistcoat – things that made it easy to run and jump and have fun.
"What do you think?" Amber asks. "Do you like them? Pretty as you'll look in all of these, I want you to feel comfortable too."
"I get a say?" Jack looks at her, startled. Since he didn't get a say in what he wore as a prince, he never expected to get that opportunity as a courtesan.
"Of course you do," she says, smiling at him and putting her hand on his shoulder. "I've been told how you ended up here. That makes it even more important that you're wearing things that you like. The king's wishes are important, but yours are too. The only rules for a courtesans wardrobe are no sleeves and no shoes, weather permitting."
Jack blinks and looks at the clothes. Being able to explore the palace is what he was thinking of in terms of freedom, but this is a kind of freedom too. He smiles, surprised at how much it means to him.
"They're all nice," he says, taking one of them off the rail and putting it against his body. It's sky blue with a deep v-neck, fastened at the waist with a silver and opal clasp. It's beautiful and it's also almost entirely sheer. "Uh- maybe something a little less revealing?"
"We can do that," Amber says, reaching for a silver-white robe with embroidery around the neck. "I can put in more layers but for today you could wear this with it."
"What do I wear under it?"
"It's designed to be worn over underwear," she says with a shrug. "It's supposed to be provocative. Teasing."
Jack raises his eyebrows. "Pitch likes that? Teasing?"
"Judging from what he wants to see you wearing, I'd say so," Amber says with a laugh, and Jack looks at the robe again. Sheer as it is, it wouldn't leave much to the imagination. "Honestly, though, if you prefer to wear trousers and a tunic underneath, I'm sure he won't mind – I don't think he'd care whatever you wore. Why don't we see what it looks like?"
She moves forward, reaching for the belt of his robe and he jerks back.
The memory of being stripped in the temple in Lunanoff flashes into his mind and panic wraps around his chest like iron bands, making it hard to breathe.
"Can I dress myself? Just for today? Please?" He feels a little embarrassed about asking, especially when Amber seems so nice, but he just wants a little privacy. He just wants to feel like a person, not a courtesan or a commodity.
After a moment of looking at him, startled, Amber gives him a gentle smile and nods. "Of course," she says and kneels down to open the chest. It's full of clothes, underwear and leggings and simple tops. "Take anything you'd like. Whatever you'd feel comfortable in."
Jack takes them into the bathroom and shuts the door, closing his eyes against the whispers of panic. He breathes deeply until the tightness around his chest eases and then opens his eyes, looks into the mirror.
"It's okay," he tells himself, and his reflection gives him a small smile as though not entirely convinced. "It's going to be okay," he corrects, and that makes him smile wider, if only because of the silliness of talking to himself.
He looks at the clothes in his arms and starts to put them on. Having a top under the two robes is too bulky, so he ends up with just a pair of close-fitting trews. The robes are sheer enough that his skin can be glimpsed beneath the layers but covers him enough that he's comfortable.
Is this teasing, then? And Pitch likes that? Jack has plenty of experience teasing his friends and family but he guesses this is something different. He grins at his reflection. It still sounds like it might be fun.
Turning this way and that, he's surprised by how much he likes the outfit. The robes are lightweight enough that he can move easily in them, and the blue matches his eyes. His arms are bare and the deep v-necks – down to his waist on the blue one, his sternum on the white – mean that his collar is on show. He touches it, loops a finger around the ring fastened to the front. The metal is cool and smooth. He tries to put a name to the way he feels about it, but his emotions are hopelessly knotted.
"It's going to be okay," he tells himself again, and this time his smile doesn't meet his eyes. Part of him wishes he had time to think things through, but then thinking about things has never been his strong point. Maybe he just needs to distract himself with action. Remembering what he was doing before Onyx and Amber arrived gives him an idea of what sort of thing might distract him, and he blushes, flashing an embarrassed grin at his reflection before turning away.
Before he can get caught up in his thoughts again, he steps back into the room and spreads his arms wide. "What do you think?"
"Gorgeous!" Amber grins at him and comes over to adjust the robes slightly. She looks delighted that her creations suit him so well.
"I think Pitch will like that very much," Onyx says, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
"So it's suitably teasing?" Jack asks with a grin, and she laughs lightly.
"Definitely."
Amber continues getting him ready for the day. He agrees to having his ears and lip pierced again, and the sting is quickly overcome by a spicy potion that soothes them instantly. The delicate silver and opal earrings are so light that he barely notices them; the simple silver ring through his lip will take some getting used to but as he prods at it with his tongue he decides he likes it. She paints his nails silver and then stands back to admire her handiwork.
"So," he says. "Should I try teasing Pitch?"
Amber finishes putting silver slides into his hair and then sits back to look at him. "That depends on what you want him to do," she says, and Jack feels a blush spread over his cheeks.
"He- he kissed me last night. Maybe that again?" Maybe more, a hungry voice whispers and Jack's blush deepens.
"You could just ask him," Amber says with a laugh. She stands and pulls Jack to his feet, walking around him for one last check and then she nods, satisfied. "You look stunning. If you want him to kiss you, I don't think you'll have to do much to persuade him."
After they leave, Jack looks at his reflection again, admiring his new jewellery, but barely a moment later there's another knock at the door.
This time it is Pitch, and the instant he steps into the room Jack is glad that he decided not to wear a top beneath the robes. Pitch's eyes roam his skin hungrily, and he steps forward to take Jack's hand in his, planting a kiss to the back of it.
"How are you feeling today, Jack?"
Jack opens his mouth to say fine but then shuts it again. "I don't know. How are you supposed to feel when you've been given away by your family? Betrayed. Scared. People keep calling me brave but I don't feel brave."
Pitch is still holding his hand and he strokes the back of it with his thumb. "You chose to stay here when you could have left. That is brave, Jack."
"Maybe," he says quietly, and shakes his head, giving Pitch a weak smile. "So what do you think of my outfit? Amber did a pretty good job, huh?"
For a long moment, Pitch looks at him, but then nods, letting Jack change the subject. "She did. You look lovely."
"So what are we going to do now that I'm all dressed up?"
"We could go out into the gardens," Pitch says. "I thought it might be nice for you to see something outside of your rooms."
The thought of going outside lightens the weight on Jack's heart and his smile widens. "Yeah. I'd like that."
"Excellent."
Pitch takes the golden chain that acted as a leash from the wall, and Jack's enthusiasm is muted. After attaching the leash, Pitch pulls Jack's arms behind his back, connecting the cuffs.
"You don't trust me," Jack murmurs.
"Not entirely," Pitch says, looking down at him. "Do you trust me?"
Jack's lips twitch into a smile. "Not entirely."
Pitch takes hold of the leash and a protest is on Jack's lips, but he closes his mouth. He's not sure how he feels about it. It's part of a tradition that he doesn't really understand – the role of courtesan is complex and his reading so far has barely scratched the surface. He has read enough to know that courtesans don't always wear a leash, and he wonders if one day Pitch will let him go without. And then there's something deep within him that likes it; it's the same part of him that responds to Pitch so hungrily, and Jack has absolutely no idea what to make of it.
When they go out into the corridor, Jack is startled all over again by the size of the place. There are enormous windows, almost from the floor to the ceiling, and they have a wonderful view of the gardens. Jack feels a rush of excitement at the thought of truly being outside for the first time in his life.
"What do you think of my palace?" Pitch asks, jerking Jack from his thoughts. "It must be different to your own."
"It's different but I like it," Jack says, honestly. "It's simpler. Subtler."
Pitch laughs softly, and the sound of it makes Jack shiver with pleasure. "The idea of any palace being subtle is somewhat amusing."
"Yeah, well, you've not seen Lunanoff."
They walk in silence for a moment and then Pitch says, "Do you think you could be happy here? If you decide to stay?"
Jack pauses, trying to decide how to answer. It's difficult when he's not even sure how he feels. "It's people who make me happy, not places. So I guess that depends on you."
"I suppose so," Pitch says, a thoughtful note in his voice.
The corridor comes into an end into a hall so huge that Jack can barely believe that it's real. It's as big as an entire wing of the palace in Lunanoff, Jack's sure of it. It's as simple as the rest of the palace, with the same dark stone and simple geometric patterns except for the ceiling, which is painted to resemble a night sky. The constellations are marked out with their names beside them, and Jack is surprised to see that they are the same names he knows. He's been brought up to think of Umbra as a strange, alien place; but the more he sees of it, the more he is realising that the differences are only superficial; that they're not so different after all.
Two grand staircases lead down to the ground floor and Pitch leads Jack down one of them, though Jack can't stop looking around at the incredible hall, trying to take in everything.
They approach huge doors, guards standing at either side. They bow to Pitch and pull open the doors without uttering a single word.
The instant they step outside, all of Jack's doubts and worries melt away. He closes his eyes and turns his face to the sun, feeling its warm, golden glow filling him. The wind dances around him, playing over his skin and whispering in his ears. His lips curve into a smile as peace chases the last of his fears away.
When he opens his eyes, Pitch is looking at him wonderingly. "You really do love being out here, don't you?"
"Yes," Jack says, and looks out over the gardens, smiling. "It feels good. It feels right. I guess it's something to do with my magic. Weather magic – it's all part of nature. Even though my magic's still bound, I can feel a – a connection."
Pitch looks as though he wants to say something but thinks better of it. Instead he presses a kiss to Jack's forehead and leads him down the stairs. The stone is pleasantly warm beneath Jack's feet. Still holding the leash in one hand, Pitch falls into step with Jack and slides the other arm around Jack's shoulders. What a strange mixture of affection this is, Jack thinks, and stranger still that he likes it. He wishes he could go without the cuffs being linked, though. If his hands were free-
If my hands were free I'd grab Pitch by the lapels and kiss him, Jack thinks, want rising in him, sudden and fierce. He feels heat in his cheeks and looks away, hoping Pitch won't see.
"You're blushing," Pitch says; so much for that. "What are you thinking?"
"I, uh," Jack says, groping for less embarrassing responses but theyevade him. "I was thinking about last night. When you kissed me."
"Oh yes?" Pitch's grin widens. "You liked that, did you?"
"I liked it a lot," Jack says, and the heat in his cheeks flares. He looks up at Pitch and gives him a smile that is far more confident than he feels. "Maybe we could do it again."
Pitch stops and looks at Jack for a long moment before pulling him closer and kissing him. Jack tugs at his cuffs, wanting to put his arms around Pitch, but his frustration is quickly defused as the heat of the kiss burns away everything else. When Pitch pulls away, Jack is gasping and half-hard, and the little smile that Pitch gives him only makes him even more frustrated.
"When we get to your garden, I'm going to ravish you," Pitch murmurs.
It takes Jack's dazed mind a few moments to realise what Pitch just said. "My - my garden?"
"The courtesan's garden," Pitch says, setting off again. "When the royal family moved to this palace after the Great War, the courtesan missed the beautiful gardens of the old palace so much that the king built her a garden of her own, full of beautiful flowers to make her smile again."
Jack wonders if Pitch would do something like that for him; judging from his actions so far, he's fairly sure he would.
"This hasn't always been the main palace?" Jack asks. He looks over his shoulder and sees the palace from the outside for the first time. It's immense, far bigger than any building Jack has ever seen. It is pale grey with a black roof, six pointed turrets stretching into the cloudless sky. Much like the interior it is simple but beautiful, and Jack just stares at for a long moment. It seems like something out of a fairy tale, as unreal as people from the stars or the moon god. "It's the most incredible thing I've ever seen."
"It used to be the summer palace, for when the heat on the coast got too much."
Seasons, Jack thinks, startled again. If he stays here, he'll see the seasons change. In Lunanoff it is always comfortable, neither hot nor cold, never changing. The size of the palace and now the thought of seasons make him feel strange, like he's dreaming or drunk.
"What season is it now?"
"The beginning of autumn," Pitch says and points to the distant forest. A handful of leaves are beginning to change colour and they stand out amid the green.
"And they'll all change?"
"Yes," Pitch says. "In a month's time, most of them will have fallen and the weather will be turning. If you stay, you'll see winter."
"And snow," Jack says softly, then gives a small smile, thinking of what he's seen in paintings and stories. "I'd like to see that."
"It's your choice, Jack."
He looks up at Pitch and smiles. "It is, isn't it?"
They walk a little further, and as they reach the crest of the hill, Pitch points and says, "The courtesan's garden."
On the edge of a copse of trees, Jack sees a wall covered in ivy a little pool of privacy in the otherwise open gardens. As they approach, Pitch leads him around a corner to a wooden door with curling greenery carved into it. Withdrawing a key from the depths of his robe, he inserts it into the lock, which clicks loudly as it opens.
They step inside and Jack looks around with wide eyes. The garden is a riot of colour, a complete contrast to the palace. Grass and moss make a soft carpet for a courtesan's bare feet. Flowering vines creep up trestles, beds of roses and lavender and plants that Jack has no name for are everywhere. Lunanoff doesn't grow plants for the sake of beauty, only for crops, so his knowledge of their names is lacking, but whatever they are called, they are beautiful. Lunanoff can keep its ostentatious decor; this is true grandeur.
"Do you like it?" Pitch asks, looking at Jack carefully as though seeking approval, and Jack grins up at him.
"It's beautiful."
"Yes," Pitch says. "But not nearly as lovely as my courtesan."
Jack can't help but laugh at that. "Really? That's kind of sappy."
Pitch stares at him for a moment, and then gives a crooked smile. "You are very different to how I thought you'd be. I have a lot to learn about you."
"That kind of makes us even then," Jack says. "Because I don't know anything about you, either."
"Then we can learn together," Pitch says. "And I'm looking forward to getting to know you."
He leans down to press their lips together.
Jack feels a flutter of fear but pushes it away. Closing his eyes, he feels a sudden rush of courage and slides his tongue along Pitch's top lip. Pitch makes an approving noise and flicks his tongue against Jack's, bites gently at his bottom lip. His arms go around Jack's waist, and Jack wants to return the gesture but he can't with his hands cuffed behind his back.
At his groan of frustration, Pitch pulls back slightly. "Is something the matter?"
"This is kind of a pain with my hands behind my back."
Pitch hesitates and then with a single touch to the cuffs, Jack's wrists are released. Pulling them around to the front, he rolls his shoulders to release the tension and then realises that there was nothing to hold the cuffs together.
"Where's the chain?"
"There wasn't a chain," Pitch says, pulling Jack's hands in front of him and touching them again. A shadow slides from beneath one of the cuffs and loops between the two rings of the cuffs. Jack pulls, hard, but the shadow is as strong as steel.
"Your magic," Jack murmurs.
"Yes; control over shadows is a very versatile kind of magic. There are many different uses for it –some more pleasurable than others."
Jack hitches an eyebrow. "Pleasurable?"
Pitch grins at him. "You'll see," he promises, and Jack blinks, curiosity rising in him like smoke. He tries to imagine what Pitch might mean but fails. He's looking forward to finding out. With another touch of Pitch's fingers to the cuffs, the shadow dissolves and Jack's wrists are free again.
Jack reaches up to slide his hands around the back of Pitch's neck and stands on his tiptoes to kiss him, a thank you. This is the first time that he's kissed Pitch and nervousness laps at him, but it quickly dissolves when Pitch responds, wrapping his arms around Jack's waist and biting gently at his bottom lip. He leaves a trail of kisses up Jack's jawline and bites his neck above the collar. It's not entirely gentle and it makes Jack shiver, startled by the way that the pain overlaps with pleasure.
"You like this don't you?" Pitch whispers, and Jack nods eagerly.
"Yes," he breathes, his hands curling in Pitch's robe.
"Even though you didn't want to be here - you want this?" And he realises that Pitch is seeing if he genuinely wants this - that he's not forcing him into anything - and his mouth opens but he can't form words. Pitch cares about him. He's said that before but it's one thing it say it, another entirely to see it.
"I want it," Jack says, then pauses. "I don't- I've not done anything before. I don't know- All that stuff in the books, I have no idea about-" he stops and squeezes his eyes shut. Why is it so hard to explain?
"We'll take it slowly," Pitch murmurs, and resumes kissing and biting. "If you want me to stop, just say."
"Yeah? You're okay with that? Me not knowing anything – stopping if I want you to?"
Pitch pulls back. "Of course. I thought the books made it clear. A courtesan's role is not just to provide physical pleasure."
"I know, but that's part of it. And they usually know more than nothing."
"I don't care how much you know," Pitch says, shaking his head. "That can be learned. All I want is you. Don't worry; let me lead." He bites at Jack's earlobe and he yelps, startled at how good it feels. Pitch smirks at him. "Sensitive?"
"Yeah," Jack gasps, his hands tangling in Pitch's robes. "So keep doing it."
"You say that you don't have much experience but that's not stopping you from wanting it-"
"Yeah, I want it so please-"
Jack's begging is stopped abruptly when Pitch pushes him against the wall and kisses him, hard. He's cushioned by the flowers and their scent wraps around him, heady and intoxicating. Pitch presses his tongue into Jack's mouth, making him whimper. His hands return to the back of Pitch's neck, not wanting him to move away again and he opens his mouth for Pitch, licks back, strokes Pitch's tongue with his own. Pressing his hips against Pitch's, he moans to feel Pitch's cock, hard against his own.
Abruptly Pitch moves away and pulls on Jack's leash, leading him to a wide wooden bench. Being pulled by the leash like that confirms all of Jack's earlier thoughts – it can feel good. It makes him want to do anything Pitch asks of him, go anywhere he wants to take him, to follow him and kneel by his feet and lean his face into his hip-
Jack's thoughts are derailed when Pitch pushes him down onto the bench and climbs on top of him. It felt good to have Pitch's weight on top of him last night and it feels even better now, already turned on and touch-hungry. He moans, his hands scrabbling at the soft fabric of Pitch's robes.
Pitch's hands roam over his body and Jack's robes are so thin that Jack can feel everything. When Pitch's hand slides lower, ghosting over Jack's cock through the trews, he cries out, his back arching off the bench.
"You like that," Pitch purrs, and Jack nods frantically, not knowing or caring if it was a question.
Pitch continues to stroke him, with different pressures, concentrating on different parts of his cock and balls, until Jack is a whimpering, whispering mess. He could come from this, and he's not even being touched, not really.
When Pitch's hands move away, he's not sure whether to be glad or not, but there's barely a moment of relief before his fingers slide under the neck of his robes to tease at his nipples.
"Please," he begs, almost a sob. "Don't stop - I need-"
Pitch chuckles and kisses him again, his hands tangling in Jack's hair. His hips are pressed against Jack's and he moves, ever so slightly, just enough to get Jack whimpering again. He echoes Pitch's movements, circles his hips against Pitch's and gets an approving rumble for his efforts.
"That's good, Jack," Pitch murmurs against his lips. "So good."
Jack can only reply wordlessly, grinding his hips against Pitch's. Moving together, they get a good rhythm going and the last of Jack's ability to think evaporates. He's being weighed down and he can't escape, he doesn't want to. This is what he wants: to not think, to not feel any doubt or hurt. All he can feel is pleasure, and he sinks into it like a warm, dark ocean.
Pitch kisses him, bites at his lip, keeps running his hands up Jack's torso, and all the different sensations just pull him deeper. Nothing matters but the two of them, everything is good, it's perfect–
And then suddenly Pitch's hand is on Jack's cock, skin to skin. He cries out, fucking into Pitch's hand. It's so much more intense like this and in less than a minute he is crying out as he comes, his hand squeezing Pitch's arm so hard that he grunts in pain. Pleasure overwhelms him and he's unable to do anything but whimper and let it carry him where it will. He slumps down on the bench, gasping and feeling dazed, lost in a warm and pleasant place.
He hears Pitch cry out as well, feels drops of warmth on his stomach and chest, and then Pitch's weight on top of him, gasping in his ear.
When Jack can move again he slides his arms around Pitch, tucking his thumbs into the belt. He still can't think properly and he's more than happy with that this fuzzy satisfaction.
"That- that wasn't quite what I intended when I brought you here," Pitch says without moving, breathing a laugh and stroking his fingers through Jack's hair.
Jack grins and they lie there for a long while, listening to their breathing.
Pitch pushes himself up and looks down at them. Both of their robes are a mess, covered in come. He stands up, wincing, and pulls off his robe. Beneath he wears only trousers, unfastened. Jack stares at his softening cock and reaches out to touch it, stroking his fingers down its length. Pitch lets out a shaky breath and pushes Jack's hand away.
"I'm a little sensitive at the moment."
Jack lets Pitch strip him of the blue robe; the white one is still mostly clean. He smiles up at Pitch, enjoying the last of this lovely numbness.
"Are you alright?" Pitch asks as he folds their robes.
"Yes," Jack says, pushing himself up on his elbows. "I mean- It helped. Everything that's happened – all the things I can't stop thinking about – it made them all disappear for a while. I'm still kinda nervous about the whole – physical pleasure thing. But it really helped."
"It's better than thinking," Pitch says, as though he knows exactly what Jack means. Putting the robes down, he pulls Jack into his arms, kissing him gently. "Sometimes losing yourself in the physical can be a perfect distraction from the mental." He looks pensive for a moment, and Jack wonders what he's thinking about. Maybe he needs a little distracting himself.
"Yeah," he says. "That's it exactly."
Pitch smiles down at him and kisses him softly. "I would be more than happy to help you distract yourself, anytime you like."
Jack laughs and ducks his head to hide the blush that spreads across his cheeks. "I'll let you know."
This is nothing like he expected to happen today, but he's glad it did.
He was expecting the first time they made each other come to be an uncertain, muddled experience, but it was good. It was better than good, and better still because he feels more confident now, he feels like he can do this, if he decides to stay.
Maybe this won't be so bad after all.