Jack wasn't very hungry, he noticed, as he stared at the plate of food sitting before him. His appetite had mysteriously vanished as he watched Pitch from a few feet away. He was sitting casually in the exact same armchair, reading the paper with eager intent, almost like he was expecting news of his criminal activities to be announced. Completely absorbed in the words, Pitch neglected to look at Jack, much less acknowledge his existence. Though, Jack didn't mind so much. After last night, he was surprised that Pitch had allowed him to come down from his room at all. Jack had been mentally preparing himself for the worst, or at very least the dungeons. He decided it would be better not to fall asleep in case Pitch kept his promise about the nightmares, which Jack was not too keen to test. But from the way Pitch was acting, it was as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred at all last night. The kiss had never happened.
As grateful as Jack was for Pitch's leniency, he couldn't help but be a small bit frustrated with the man. The same words from last night's conversation flitted in and out of Jack's head: I think you're happy to be here… I was mildly impressed when I first met you…Those wandering hands, soft lips, the warmth of their bodies pressed together, sheer lust rolling over the pair of them in waves of ecstasy. Jack wasn't sure whether he was mad at Pitch for what he had said, or overjoyed with what they had done. All he knew was that he enjoyed Pitch's touch more than he should.
Jack supposed that he had drifted off at some point, because the next thing he knew, Pitch was clearing his throat and Jack was brought back to reality. His cheeks felt flushed. He felt the overwhelming urge to ask Pitch what he was thinking, but decided better of it. Instead, he asked a much more anticipated question.
"So…" he began, "are you going to punish me?"
Unprepared for the forwardness of Jack's approach, Pitch turned his head, and dropped the paper down into his lap. Jack swallowed when he saw that same playful smirk creep onto Pitch's face.
"Why do you ask?" he hummed, "do you want to be punished?"
"I… no …Stop that! Just answer the question!" Jack demanded through gritted teeth, frustrated. Pitch laughed.
"Maybe, or maybe not. Maybe I like keeping you on your toes, Jack Frost. One evening you might find yourself dreaming peacefully, only to be smothered by nightmares. Who knows?"
Jack felt those same tendrils of fear curl around his heart before squeezing it painfully.
"You're terrible," he wheezed.
"I know," Pitch agreed, "but it's about time you started to fear me. You clearly have yet to understand the position you're in."
"I've already told you, you don't scare me Pitch," Jack countered. Pitch's golden eyes roamed over Jack's figure, clearly unbelieving of Jack's claim. Jack balled his hands tensely, his knuckles itching to punch Pitch in the face. They stayed like that for a moment or two: Pitch casually looking over Jack curiously, and Jack biting back the harsh words he wanted to say. He felt more conflicted then he had ever felt. He wanted Pitch to kiss him again, but Jack also wanted to prove to him that he was no child. He wanted to show Pitch how powerful he was, and that maybe he deserved more respect than he had been getting lately. He was no one's prisoner, and he certainly wasn't going to go running just because Pitch told him he should.
Leaning back in his chair, Pitch placed a finger on his lips. The reaction was almost instant; Jack's defensiveness fell away to reveal a much more vulnerable side as his mind was drawn back to the kiss, yet again. It was a subtle movement, but Pitch was all about nuances, and he was using the situation to his advantage. He was playing the boy like a finely tuned instrument, bending his emotions with the wave of his hand. Jack squirmed in his seat.
"I don't need to scare you to have the upper hand here, Jack." Pitch crooned, "But fear puts people in their place. It protects them. A healthy dose of fear might be just what you need."
His voice deepened richly, and Jack bit the inside of his cheek. His own blue eyes flickered upwards, his vision slightly covered by the white hair falling in his face.
"You're careless," Pitch pressed on, "you're reckless, and you have no regard for rules. You went wandering about the castle last night like it was some sort of game. Do you have any idea what's hidden down here? What horrors parade through the darkness? You got lucky, finding my study on your first try. I'm hardly the most dangerous thing down here. You could have been hurt, or even worse killed, Jack! Then, my entire operation would have been compromised!"
Jack immediately scowled.
"So nice to hear what my safety means to you," he snapped. "But to be frank, I don't care about your stupid operation. I never asked to be the bargaining chip in this deal you've made."
"Regardless," Pitch said, waving Jack's comment away like it was a pesky fly, "your life could have been in danger! If you feared me, like you should, then none of what happened last night would have happened!"
Jack felt somewhat hurt at Pitch's words, but shook the feeling off.
"Well," he said softly, "as I said before, I don't fear you. And maybe I'm better off dead, if your operation is all that matters to you. That would put a bit of a damper on your plans, wouldn't it?"
Suddenly, Pitch leaped forward from his chair. He marched over to Jack, and grabbed his arm violently. Jack could feel the edges of Pitch's nails digging into his skin. Jack cried out, but Pitch held fast.
"Don't you DARE talk like that in front of me!" He snarled with his face filled with anger, and perhaps a touch of fear. "Don't you dare!"
"Why not?" Jack fired back, slowly losing feeling in his arm. His breathing was short and jagged, and the edges of his vision began to turn black.
"If you ever even think about killing yourself, I will personally see to it that your entire family is put through hell." He growled in response. Jack's eyes widened, that precious fear rearing its ugly head.
"You… you wouldn't…"
"Watch me," Pitch whispered, realizing Jacks arm with a jerk. Jack immediately began massaging the raw broken skin. It throbbed painfully. Jack was use to Pitch's threats, because they were a daily thing. But this… this was a new low for Pitch. He could do whatever he wanted with Jack, but Jack would never forgive himself if his family was dragged into this.
"And to address your ignorant remark," Pitch continued, staring down at the boy, "of course my operation is all that matters to me. I am a practiced criminal mastermind, and I don't bother myself with anything other than my work."
Jack noticed that Pitch sounded like he was reassuring himself of this, rather than trying to convince Jack.
"Then what do you call last night?" Jack retorted wildly, his dignity wounded. "because that sure as hell wasn't work."
His words left Pitch speechless. They stood there, their chests heaving with anger, but nothing much to say. Pitch bared his teeth, and stared lividly at the boy, but Jack was equally as frustrated, and stared back with resentment. The fire simmered in the pit, and little sparks flew around in the smoke, adding to the eeriness of the silence. Then, Pitch raised a steady hand.
It came down on Jack's cheek so hard that Jack went numb. He gazed up at the man, unsure of what had happened, when the pain suddenly sprung through his face.
"Ow!" He cried, clutching a hand to his now pulsating cheek. Pitch pointed a finger at the door without breaking his gaze from Jack.
"Get… Out…" he murmured dangerously. His tone took Jack by surprise, and he felt his insides shatter with disappointment. At the same time however, Jack felt more anger than he had ever experienced in his life. Teary eyed from the pain, Jack slowly stood and walked calmly to the door. His eye felt like it was swelling shut, and he couldn't move his left facial features, but he needed to uphold what he had said. He wasn't afraid of Pitch, no matter how much pain the man caused him. So Jack made sure to stand up straight as he turned the knob, and exited the room, withholding as much of his pride as he could muster.
"What?" Jack yelled at the man entering his room, "What do you want?"
The redness in Jack's cheek had gone down significantly since that morning, mainly because Ice Pick had been resting on top of it to help the swelling. Her cold body temperature eased the pain and brought the feeling back to Jack's face. But as he sat up, he still felt that same rage and hurt rushing through him dangerously. The thick, bulky man who had entered the room was the same one that Jack was so familiar with. He looked at Jack like he was bored, and it irritated Jack to no end. Jack was in pain and the emotionless aura of this man only made him angrier.
"Pitch has requested you. He wishes for you to come down to his study."
Jack paused a moment, letting the words sink in, and then he laughed heartily.
"Are you joking?" he cried, "no way in hell! I want nothing to do with him!"
The man raised an eyebrow, and sighed.
The next moment, Jack was kicking and squirming as he was, yet again, tossed over this man's shoulder. Ice Pick attempted to pinch the man the same way that she had attacked Pitch, but his skin was so thick and tough that he hardly reacted. He slammed the door behind them before the little snow fairy could follow Jack into the hall.
After fighting for a few minutes, Jack simply gave up. He felt too tired and too upset to care anymore as was carried like a sack of flour down the same familiar hallways.
"I don't want to talk to him," Jack said to the man, "He's a vile prick, and I hope he goes to hell."
The man was unresponsive to Jack's insults, but Jack continued to talk.
"I mean, the man kidnaps me, and then has the nerve to treat me like a naïve child. And then he kisses me, only to deny it had ever happened! Who does he think he is?"
They entered the study, but Jack wasn't quite finished.
"I'm so sick of him. I'm done. I refuse to indulge him any longer… ridiculous, big-headed twat…"
"You wouldn't happen to be talking about me, would you?" said that familiar voice that sent thrills through Jack, and made his heartbeat quicken. He felt himself thrown off his carriers back and onto the floor. Jack landed with a thud, and groaned, massaging the back of his neck.
"I meant every word," Jack mumbled, shaking as he got to his feet.
"I'm sure you did," Pitch said softly. Jack turned and found Pitch staring at him thoughtfully, "how's the face?"
"It's been better," Jack snapped, brushing off his pants and crossing his arms tightly. "Now what do you want Pitch? You're kind of the last person I want to see right now."
Pitch gave Jack a small smirk and nodded understandingly. Jack eyed the man with suspicion, but said nothing.
"Jackson Frost, I have called you to my study this afternoon to propose a deal." He began. Jack momentarily hazed over at the word "propose," but immediately refocused on what Pitch was saying, feeling embarrassed.
"You know what I do for a living, I trust?" he asked. Jack rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, I got the whole criminal mastermind bit." He snapped.
"Yes, but do you understand exactly what it is I do in the field of criminal activity?"
Jack furrowed his brows in confusion, and he shrugged.
"You steal things," he answered.
"Not just 'things,'" Pitch corrected, "I steal priceless artifacts. I only trouble myself with the best of the best."
"Oh, how sweet of you," Jack played. Pitch looked up at him testily.
"Excuse me?"
"You stole me, and therefore consider me a priceless artifact. I'm touched, really." Jack said, sarcastically. Pitch exhaled sharply, but continued to speak.
"Seeing as these artifacts are some of the most treasured specimen in the world, the tactics I use to obtain them are complicated and well thought out. It takes a lot to do my job. Recently, I have been given a task that might be downright impossible…"
"Might?" Jack questioned.
"In order to do this job," Pitch said, "I require another person."
Jack nodded slowly, listening, when he understood what Pitch was trying to say.
"Oh, no," Jack said, backing up, "Oh, definitely not. Not in a million years!"
"Jack…"
"Why in god's name would you need me?" Jack asked, frantically pointing to himself. Pitch ran a hand through his hair, and exhaled loudly.
"I'm going to be honest with you-"
"Better late than never," Jack huffed under his breath.
"The people I am going to be stealing from are people I would rather not run into."
"Why?"
"Let's just say that they hold a bit of a grudge against me."
"So?" Jack pressed bitterly, "You're a criminal! I'm sure plenty of people hold a grudge against you."
Jack, of course, was indicating to his own grudge against Pitch at the moment, but Pitch didn't seem to get what he was hinting at.
"This is different… You see, these men... they believe I am dead."
Jack's eyebrows shot up and he pursed his lips together. He threw his hands by his side in an exasperated fashion, almost like this was typical of Pitch. Pitch observed his reaction with a nod.
"You see my predicament."
"Why can't your two goons do the job?" Jack insisted, gesturing to Pitch's henchmen "Why do you need me?"
"I have used them in almost every operation I have ever been assigned to, and I am worried that their presence will cause suspicion. No, I need someone new. Someone who these people could never relate back to me…"
Jack looked down at the carpet, his mind racing. Pitch was giving him an opportunity to participate in a crime. A real crime! Jack wasn't entirely sure what to make of the proposition. He did, however, consider it an opportunity to escape the palace, which sounded promising…
"Will it be dangerous?" he asked eagerly.
"Yes," Pitch said. Jack hummed appreciatively.
"Well… I suppose if you truly need me…"
Jack was pushing his luck and he knew it. Pitch glared at him, obviously annoyed.
"Don't toy with me, Frost."
"Alright, alright, fine." Jack agreed, "On one condition."
Pitch's face distorted into one of surprise.
"Just because I require your assistance, does not mean you are in the position to make deals," Pitch snarled. Jack smirked, feeling stupidly confident.
"It's just one little thing," Jack insisted. Pitch leaned on the mantle of the fireplace and massaged his eyes with his palms in a tired fashion.
"Fine. What?"
"Kiss me again."
This caught Pitch completely off guard. He lost his balance and almost banged his head on the mantle, but he caught himself just in time. He looked at Jack like he hadn't quite understood what he had asked.
"I'm sorry?"
"You heard me," Jack said, his insides fluttering nervously, but he knew what he wanted. Maybe Pitch would slap him again, or maybe he would send him back to his room. Jack didn't care anymore, so he was going to press his luck to the point of foolishness.
Pitch cleared his throat politely, and readjusted his collar. Jack couldn't help but notice how the tables had turned; Jack was now the one making Pitch uncomfortable, and he wouldn't deny that he was thoroughly enjoying himself.
"What if I say no?" Pitch tried, obviously covering up his initial shock at the question. Jack shrugged teasingly.
"How badly do you need me?" he asked.
Pitch was approaching Jack slowly, at a casual pace, but still enough to make Jack's insides twist with excitement.
"Not that badly," Pitch murmured. Jack gave him an appraising look, feeling cocky in his newfound position of power.
"Oh well then," he sighed. "I guess you'll have to find someone else."
Pitch stopped walking as he stood inches away from Jack, towering over the boy. Jack looked up, meeting the man's gaze with a playful sparkle in his eyes.
"You are insufferable, you know that?" Pitch whispered. Jack smiled.
"I've been told."
Pitch's confidence had returned, Jack could see, as he began to run his fingers over Jack body. Jack was wearing his basic white blouse, but parts of his chest and collarbones remained unhidden, allowing Pitch to lightly graze the skin. Jack repressed a shiver.
"Fine," Pitch said, "It's a deal."
He leaned over gracefully, and Jack could feel the hot breath running across his nerves like warm honey. Jack closed his eyes and sighed as he felt Pitch roaming over the muscles in his back and shoulders. He needed Pitch. He wanted to do things to Pitch…
As if Pitch could read his mind, the man took another step so that his upper thigh was in contact with Jack's groin. Jack inhaled sharply, the close contact taking him by surprise. Pitch was wearing that familiar evil smile that suggested the balance of power had returned to normal. Jack was weak in Pitch's arms, and he felt shots of pleasure run through him that drove him wild. He watched as Pitch leaned down, their lips hairs away from one another, breathing in one another hungrily.
Then, Pitch pulled away. Jack was still standing there expectantly, his body crying out at the loss of contact. He snarled.
"What… What are you…?" He stammered, flustered. Pitch could barely contain his amusement.
"You said you wanted me to kiss you," he explained, moving back towards the armchair. "You never specified when you wanted me to. All in good time Frost."
Jack's jaw dropped and the area between his thighs ached for release, but he could hardly move from his spot.
"You tease!" Jack reprimanded. Pitch's smile only widened at this.
"Simon will show you back," he said in response. "Tomorrow, we will begin planning."
Jack was gaping at the man, unsure of what to do, when Simon reentered the room.
"I'll get you back for this Pitch," Jack swore as he was lead out the large oak doors, into the dark hallways. "You owe me."
"I'm sure you will," the grey man sang.
