Breathing in the Snowflakes Six
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
Jack groaned, throwing a lazy arm in the direction of his alarm clock. He didn't hit it. He ended up hitting something, but his alarm kept on buzzing at him.
"Dammit," he grumbled, moving his arm sleepily, trying to feel for the alarm. It felt like he was touching the wall. How had he ended up so close to the headboard? Blinking open a pair of sleepy blue eyes, Jack slammed his hand down on the alarm clock and let his head fall back down.
"Need more sleep…" he mewled, nuzzling in closer to the fabric beneath him. He felt so warm. He never wanted to leave his bed. "Mmmmm…"
A soft moan below him was what startled Jack into jumping into a sitting position. Staring with wide eyes, Jack didn't know what to think seeing Pitch Black lying there, rubbing his eyes free of sleep sand.
Jack quickly grabbed a pillow and slammed it down into the older man's chest. Pitch coughed and groaned, "What was that for…?"
"What are you doing in my bed?" Jack squeaked, staring at him in horror.
"You fell asleep ON me, what else was I supposed to do?" he grumbled, pushing the pillow off his chest and sitting up a little on his elbows.
Jack blinked at the red stains on Pitch's shirt. Did he cut himself? He tried to remember yesterday, but most of it was a blur: something he was all too used to.
Rubbing his head, Jack asked, "What the hell happened yesterday…?"
"You collapsed on the floor in my funeral home and nearly gave all of us heart attacks…" Pitch grumbled, looking at Jack in an annoyed manner.
Ignoring the blatant fact that he was straddling the older male, Jack asked, "Did I say anything I wasn't supposed to?"
"Not that I recall," he said, "Although you did yell at Tia when she offered to take you home…" Jack blinked and swallowed, chewing his lip. He winced the instant he did and flung his hand up to touch his mouth. His fingertips came back red and wet.
"Oh, you've re-opened it," Pitch said, leaning forward and dabbing gently at Jack's lip with his fingers. "Suck your lip in, put pressure on it to stop the bleeding..." Jack did, shivering at the taste of his own blood.
"Were you high that whole time?" Pitch asked, looking a little surprised, "You seemed pretty coherent about what you wanted and didn't want…"
Letting his lip fall back out, Jack touched it lightly, mumbling, "I must have been… I can't remember anything…" Pitch nodded once, looking to the door of Jack's closet, noticing a shirt sleeve hanging out.
Jack climbed off Pitch and out of bed after he deemed his lip to have stopped bleeding. Looking around, Jack figured he may as well change into some clean clothes… Or… clean-er.
Pulling his shirt off, Jack grabbed the loose shirt from the door of his closet and quickly slid it over his head. Fumbling with one of the sleeves, Jack turned to Pitch and asked, "Did I bite my lip yesterday too?"
"Mmhmm," Pitch replied, standing and stretching out his limbs, "I think you did it when you collapsed… I didn't see exactly… I came in after you called me…" Jack pouted in confusion. "Do you not even remember when I gave you your last dose?"
Jack shook his head. "I remember getting inside the funeral home and that's basically it… The rest is kind of a blur," he said, finally tugging the shirt over his stomach. Pitch asked where Jack's bathroom was, saying he felt like he needed to wash his face. Jack pointed him in the right direction and changed pants while he was out.
The white haired boy went and sat on his couch. He used to have a coffee table too, but that had to be sold to help pay bills… He missed it… Grumbling, Jack got up and checked his mail box outside his door. He got some more bills and a few advertisements and other crap. Rolling his eyes, he checked through his bill.
"How am I gonna afford this…?" he muttered, seeing how his electric bill was still just as crazy high as normal. Pitch came back, rubbing his face with a towel, and he noticed Jack mulling over some papers. It was before six in the morning, but Jack didn't seem tired at all now.
"Bills?" Pitch asked, sitting next to his friend. Jack nodded.
"Electric's just as high as last month, and I don't really even use anything…!" he complained.
Laughing a little, Pitch got up and went to one of the lamps that wasn't turned on. He pulled its plug from the wall, moving to the TV next. "Ever watch it?" he asked. Jack said no, so he pulled it as well. Going around unplugging all things Jack said he didn't use, Pitch explained, "The trick is that as long as something's plugged in you're still using the electricity… That's how they get you… If you just unplug everything, you're not using it, and the owners of the complex can't charge you…"
"Why didn't I think of that?" Jack asked, watching in utter bewilderment.
Pitch chuckled. "Probably because they told you different," he said, smiling back at the younger male, "They like to lie so they can get their money's worth…"
Frowning, Jack rubbed his now growling stomach. Hopping to his feet, he went to his fridge. He remembered the apple pie Pitch had bought for him and he quickly took the slice from within the cold chamber. Jack tossed it into his microwave and waited.
Once it was warm, Jack took it back out to his meager living room and sat back on the couch with Pitch. He pushed a forkful into his mouth and immediately sighed at how incredibly sweet it was.
Licking his lips, Jack grumbled, "Okay, I admit- I do appreciate the pie now…" Pitch laughed and said 'I told you so'. Biting down another fork of the sweet fruity treat, Jack offered one to Pitch, saying with a full mouth, "Wan' some?"
"No, it's yours," Pitch said, holding up a hand, "I don't want to take any from you…"
"Aw, come on! I's really good!" Jack whined, moving the food closer to Pitch's face. The older man sighed in defeat and opened his mouth. Jack grinned as Pitch's lips closed around the fork.
"Good right?" he asked, taking the silverware back and eating more. Pitch nodded with a soft smile and the tiniest hint of a blush.
"You're not going to wash that or get a new one?" he asked, motioning to the fork in Jack's mouth.
Grinning, Jack asked, "Why, you got cooties or sumfin?" Pitch smirked at him and Jack just resumed eating. It had been a long time since he had eaten this well. Jack loved it: feeling his belly stretch with warm food.
Patting his now bloated stomach, Jack burped and sighed. "Best breakfast I've had all month," he said with a smile.
"I should be going," Pitch said, getting to his feet, "I've got to head back to work…" Jack pouted up at him, so Pitch stuck his tongue out in response. Jack frowned and quickly did the same.
"You're so childish sometimes," Pitch said with a chuckle.
"This coming from the one who did it first!" Jack argued with a playful grin. Pitch shook his head.
Sitting up, Jack asked, "I'm gonna come with you today, right…? I've got a lot of work to make up, after all…" Pitch rolled his eyes and let Jack tag along. He refused to let Jack wreck his house, though- he jokingly told him he'd get his cooties all over his stuff.
When Pitch came back in his new clothes, he drove them to the funeral house. Jack hurried to his wall, and felt a pang of guilt seeing how far along Tia and Sandy were compared to him. So he set right to work, rolling up his sleeves and gritting his teeth in determination. He told himself right there, "No drugs today. Just work, work, work."
And two hours later, when his friends came in, he left the speechless with how beautiful his mural was. The angel looked like she was made of light and clouds. And it seemed like you could really reach out and touch her.
"Wow…" was all Sandy could think to say. Jack grinned proudly, putting his pant stained hands on his hips and thus staining his shirt.
The two went to work on their own walls- neither one mentioning what they now knew- and Jack resumed his painting. Eventually, he asked Tia to play her iPod so they'd have music to work to. She didn't have much that they'd all like, but once she found a song with a fast, light beat, Jack found himself able to work even faster.
He danced a little with the music, running his brush with each base hit. He felt fantastic today! He felt so great! And he felt so perfectly normal! He could just kiss the wall!
"You're looking better today, Jack," Pitch teased, watching the boy bounce around on his stepping stool.
Jack grinned back at him, shouting, "I feel awesome!" And he returned to painting musically. Pitch laughed and shook his head, watching the boy a bit longer before returning to his work.
At the end of the day, Jack hadn't needed to stop for another fix once; Pitch told them they wouldn't be able to come tomorrow. There would be a funeral service and only the grieving family and other onlookers would be able to come.
Taking his black bag that held all his paints and brushes, Jack smiled brightly at Pitch.
"See ya later?" he asked hopefully.
Smirking, Pitch said, "Maybe. Depends if I feel up to having to look at your ugly face again…" Jack pouted at him.
"Thanks for that- think I'll go kill myself now…" he grumbled. Pitch blinked worried yellow eyes, grabbing hold of Jack's arm.
"No, Jack, I'm sorry. I didn't mean…"
Smiling widely, Jack cooed, "Aw, you do care…" Pitch frowned at him angrily. "That's okay," Jack said, pulling his arm free, "I care about you too, ya old fart, you…" Pitch frowned again.
Jack leaned forward and stole a quick kiss to Pitch's lips. Blinking in surprise, Pitch didn't react until Jack had pulled away.
"Really startin to fall for ya," Jack said, smiling warmly at Pitch with a little blush.
Staring at the blonde in surprise, Pitch pulled Jack back to him, kissing him softly. Pulling his lips away, Pitch whispered, "I'll take care of you until you get through this addiction… I promise…" Jack smiled.
"I know you will…" he said, "You haven't let me down yet…" Jack ruffled the black hair and left with a happy smile.
And there was the BlackIce part… Sorry to those who aren't fans of it…