And she probably didn't understand either. He shoved his aching face into one of the pillows and cried, unable to stifle the tears as they poured from his eyes. He didn't want to be here, there wasn't a single person old enough or logical enough to understand or even try to. There wasn't someone he could actually run to to help him or heal him, or try to make him better.

His mind screamed to him. 'Pitch.'

Jack got up and looked to his window – already opening and beckoning to him. He practically jumped through the small square. All doubt removed from his mind. Pitch would be there.

He had to be.

Jack needed his stability, his snark and sarcastic charm, his attractive face, his unique looks – someone who could understand him, someone who BONDED with him rather then sat him down on the opposite end of a couch to yell at him.

He dashed to the cafe and even as his limbs complained and his face ached in the late night coldness that was slowly breaking through to the early Sunday morning...

He kept on.

He was breathing hard and shallow by the time the usual unintentional meeting place of him and Pitch at last appeared in sight. His chest heaved with effort and struggle, pain almost becoming the bane of his run with only the thought of once again meeting Pitch being his drive forward. With a wild smile of success and victory he pushed through the front double doors of the cafe - still open and still serving.

'24/7' Jack celebrated and scanned the few people that were there. No gray skin or charming familiar face, just a bunch of people who sat away from each other or were flirting with one another. A blonde young girl in a booth alone, who looked at him with curious eyes before looking back down as tapping away on her phone, suddenly uninterested. A couple behind them kissing each others' time away. Another man just blankly staring out the window behind them...nothing and no one of interest...

His heart sunk to his pained stomach before he got entered a booth in the darker and more well hidden part of the cafe...he may not see Pitch again but he'll be damned if he just heads home now. He couldn't bear to be in the same house with that woman, suffocating under her gaze, in her sight, with her stinging, painful words that sliced and cut at him until all that was left was the remaining ribbons of what she saw as a 'failure kid'. With a viciously powerful shake of his head he pushed those thoughts away and try to focus on something else...

Anything else.

"Ey you." A distinct accent coming from the waiter of the cafe echoed through the room and straight to Jack's ears.

'Australian.' Jack mentally whispered before looking up at the waiter who stood above him, impatient and suspecting of him – obviously with a short temper for him.

"You here to buy something or loiter about?" He asked, his notepad at the ready with the blue pen in his hand tapping impatiently. Jack wondered why the man was so aggressive to try and get him out, was it because he looked so beat up? He only had a bruised cheek, old looking hoodie sweatshirt and sitting in the back part of the cafe with his hands hidden – 'Oh...' The waiter probably thought he was a criminal or armed robbery waiting to happen.

"I'm here to-" He checked his pockets and then mentally cursed. He forgot to bring money with him just in case Pitch wasn't here! "loiter I guess..." he whispered, his voice low and heavy.

"Then do it elsewhere. Maybe you can do that in the daytime with Toothiana but not on my shift."

"Alright just let me catch my bearings and I'll be out of your way-" Jack said, trying to stall for a little more time away from home.

"Nope. Not here mate. You can collect your bearings on the sidewalk." The pen impatiently pointed towards the door and the server stepped away. "You've got fifteen seconds to go before I throw you out m'self. Resist and I'll just call the cops."

'Of course...' Jack quietly whispered under his breath, considering pressing the issue of needing to stay and stall for more time...but he didn't feel as if he could even physically argue with him anymore. He forced himself out of the seat and as slowly as he could without incurring the server's wrath, he walked to the door...

And stopped in front of it as it opened to reveal a familiar face, donned in a simple navy blue collar turtlenecked sweater, snug black pants with a gold buckled belt...and he seemed just about as surprised to see him.

Pitch looked at Jack as if he had turned into a ghost – Jack already knew he was inspecting his face, generally the large purplish bruise on his cheek caused by his father's fist and lowered his head in shame and sadness, not wanting to see his disturbed face. A gray hand grasped his chin and pulled his head up by force and Jack relented – not having the strength to fight back against Pitch's touch, something he profoundly wanted at this moment but not like this...

"Pitch, you don't usually loaf about 'ere. The kid didn't have the cash to pa-"

"And so kicking him out at eleven thirty at night was an intelligent decision?" Pitch's eyes rapidly went from concerned and pointed towards Jack to powerful ire-filled chromatic lasers focused on the rather taken aback employee who didn't bother to answer: he must have known how wrong it was to not consider the possibility that maybe Jack needed help and wasn't trying to rob the business. "Honestly Bunnymund. Your selfishness is revolting." From the corner of his eye Jack could see Bunnymund – oh Christ he hoped that was a silent joke from Pitch because that name was too funny to actually be real with his exhaustion being the only thing stopping him from saying anything about it – visibly twitch. Pitch's hand went from powerfully grasping his chin to gently caressing his face for a brief second before letting his hand fall away. "I'll order for him, later. Give us a half hour or so and I'll pay you double for whatever we order. In the mean time do try to be a bit more open minded." Jack pushed himself up against the hand before it fell away from his face...

He wanted more contact and unknowingly whimpered in complaint at the loss of it. Pitch must have heard because he then placed a hand on Jack's shoulder and lead him to the same booth in the back that the young injured man was sitting in not forty seconds ago. Pitch let Jack go in first before going in himself, sitting on the same side of the booth for once, with the younger of the two being unlucky enough to have to either look at Pitch or reveal the beaten side of his face.

He chose the former and looked directly at Pitch's eyes. They were filled with a sorrowfulness he couldn't ever hope to read or predict, something pitying but at the same time emotionally unhinged on a deeper level then what Jack could ever hope to read. He wanted to look away, wanted to turn his face and act like nothing happened but the way the older man was looking at him made him feel cared for in a way that he hadn't felt before.

And tears began streaking his face before Pitch turned and embraced him, his cautious, soft and affectionate hands slowly taking their time to wipe away and clear the tears from his eyes. The more contact he got, the more he wanted and he pressed his body closer to his sympathizer's until mere tear wiping became a full on embrace that Jack didn't want to end. Feeling the warmth of Pitch beyond the thin articles of clothing calmed him down and it wasn't long before he found himself ceasing his tears and just enjoying the feeling of hugging the man he came to view as his last human being that could truly ever understand him.

"Would it be wrong to ask what you would like to drink or eat?" The older whispered with a smile that Jack could hear in his melodic voice.

"...No...not at all...but we probably shouldn't stay like this forever." A slight joke that ended with him rested himself just a little more into Pitch's body, as if saying 'we shouldn't...but I really want to.'.

"Yeah my waist is cramping up from the angle..."

For some reason he couldn't understand Jack tiredly chuckled at that while he pulled away, smiling with thanks to his...'What are you even?...I don't even know anymore...' He thought, taking an inhale before speaking again. "Umm...can I get some coffee cake or something just to help settle my stomach for a second?"

"Is that all you want? They serve ice cream, pie, cake...be a little imaginative for your own sake."

"But...you're paying for me." Jack's voice came out quieter and more unsure about himself then he wanted it to. He wanted to convey some force as if him getting something was an impossibility.

"And I have more then enough in my back pocket right now to buy you everything on the menu at triple the price. Stop worrying and treat yourself." Pitch's voice carried with it force, a driving want for Jack to order something for himself. Something inside of Jack told him that if he didn't order something nice for himself, Pitch would and would almost force him to eat it.

"...Can I have some vanilla ice cream?" He whispered faintly, folding his arms on the table and then hiding his head in it, already knowing what was going to happen...and not caring as much as he previously would.

"Bunnymund!" He raised his hand. "Two extra large vanilla ice cream bowls. Bring all the syrup toppings."

"I don't like toppings." Jack groaned, his stomach aching for some type of substance now despite his strong resolve not to eat anything earlier today. It wasn't that he really didn't want any, he just wanted to preoccupy his mouth to stop him from trying to eat the table before him – supporting legs and all.

"They aren't for you." Pitch said in a 'matter of fact' type of way before turning to Jack and giving him a light and playful grin, trying to convey that he meant no harm. "You can have some if you want and..." Pitch raised a single finger as a sign to wait before he turned back to the counter, yelling additional orders. "Warm the caramel first!"

"...Can I have some?" Jack turned to Pitch, head still laid down on the table with the bruised portion of his face shown completely to Pitch.

The pity returned to his comforter's eyes as he saw the injury and Jack immediately looked away again, hiding his face from his sight.

"Please don't do this." Jack whispered. "I don't want to talk about it. It's not a nice story, as you can imagine and I'm too tired and hungry to even-"

"I never said you had to talk about it." He reassured the younger man with a kind caress, the light and delicate touches of fingers on the back of his neck that sluggishly moved upwards before his fingers softly scraped against his scalp upwards in the tangled in the mess of white hair that Pitch wordlessly admitted he found beautiful and mesmerizing, something like untouched, perfect, settled snowfall.

"I really don't have to?" His voice resembled Mary's at that moment, especially when their parents were fighting. Small and meek, questioning nervously and not wanting to get into any trouble for anything, wanting just to merely ask and receive.

"I'd like it if we could. I know you must think I'm weird for wanting to or...caring really...but I really want to understand you better." Jack tensed potently, like a shiver had gone up his spine, before he relaxed immensely, shoulders drooping down a little bit and his breathing relaxing more.

"Why do you really care?"

"I already told you Jackson, this isn't novelty."

"We're a thing now?" Jack ignored the fact that Pitch just used his full name, he didn't know any better about what that name meant to him.

"Not unless you want to be." He restfully reassured him and kneaded his scalp with careful, deft fingers to unwind him.

"So yes we're a thing...and if you keep doing that I really will fall asleep." Jack grinned and turned to look back up at Pitch, no longer having that much concern about his cheek as he did before.

"My apologies...and here comes our ice cream." Pitch smiled and showed off a mouth of surprisingly jagged but healthy, strong and white looking teeth as the ice cream was deposited onto their tables along with a large amount of small squeeze bottles of ice cream toppings –'strawberry', 'chocolate' – and a small plate of streaming dark beige colored liquid.

'Caramel'. Jack smiled and reached over, dipping his fingers into the liquid with a mischievous grin and Pitch opened his mouth to complain but Jack spoke before he could.

"Well we need to do something to commemorate the event don't we?" Devilish, speedy digits spread the warm confection over Pitch's moist lips with one finger and then over his own with another. He saw the look in his lover's eyes change into one of want...and Jack puckered his lips, taking his time to finish just to watch his opposite's mouth water.

The moment he dropped his palm from his mouth Pitch lunged in, pressed their sticky mouths together with more passion than Jack believed himself capable of physically handling. Hands on Jack's lower back and on the back of his head pushed them together and the young Frost opened his mouth to gasp...then everything just became incredible.

Pitch's tongue ventured into his mouth and the strong, sweet taste of caramel invaded his mouth. Jack swore in a huff of breath before his partner took the more dominant way of force and licked at his tongue, coaxing him to come play by rubbing up against him.

'Mmmm...damn it...it's on.' Jack thought mentally, accepting Pitch's love and embrace as both an act of passion and an unspoken challenge. Before he knew it his tongue was wrapped around Pitch's own skilled organ and he began allowing his hands to venture, feel and touch the skin of his lover. They both felt back on the seat of their booth, practically laying on it and the loud moans didn't go unnoticed, drawing the eyes and attention of the other cafe goers. The taste of caramel on the tongue only helping to heighten their arousal before they at last had to part, panting for breath and staring into each others eyes with limitless deprivation and minimal restraint.

"Ahem." Bunnymund said, back turned to the overheating couple, obviously too embarrassed to stop them or even face them.

Jack's face went bright red and he looked away from Pitch with a mortified look on his face. Pitch didn't seem to be bothered to give a damn.

"We really shouldn'tve done that..." The younger lover's voice was down to a whisper as he grabbed some of the bottled caramel and spread it on his own ice cream, now suddenly hungry for some in spite of himself.

"Oh please, he's lucky I didn't have sex with you right here in the cafe." Pitch shrugged and grabbed the bottled strawberry and hot caramel to pour over his own treat.

Jack just simpered in response and ate his frozen treat delightfully, almost bouncing about in his seat with an unusual mixture of desire, hunger, pleasure and fulfilled happiness running through his veins. He and Pitch were a 'thing'. An 'item'. They were something now! He wasn't even sure what the real difference was but just to hear that it was a mutual attraction was enough to send him onto cloud nine.

He grinned and ate another spoonful before giggling clamorously to himself.

"Happy I see."

"Yeah, been a while since I had food. Didn't think my stomach could handle it." Jack wished he could take that back as soon as he said it.

"Why what happened?" His voice was lined with concern.

"Nothing...I am kinda hungry for something else though..." Jack thought of a good, fun, quick way to switch the subject as rapidly as he possibly could.

"And what would that be?"

"Meat." He gave Pitch a knowing look out of the corner of his eye before licking his lips, taking his time with every little movement to keep his onlooker on the edge of his seat. He could see just how extreme the reaction was from the way his knuckles turned white while he gripped at the chair to the point of leaving marks and dents in the seats. Jack let the melting white cream drip down his chin – only a little drop of it before he licked the very tip of the spoon – from the sound of Pitch's intense exhales and soft, almost undetectable pleas for more he already knew where his mind was headed so Jack figured he'd indulge him a little. "Pitch..." He said the word with a moan carried in the same breath, running his free hand down the length of his body, lingering teasingly on his nipples and hips until Pitch mouthed to him.

"No more..." The gray gentleman bit down hard on his lip while his nails clawed the upholstery of the seat.

"Ooooh...but I wanna play more." He let out faint pants for more and more of the imagined touch and embrace of his lover, his hips ever so slightly shifting forward.

"Unless you want a different type of ride from the backseat of my car you'll stop that." He hissed quickly, almost hiding his face in embarrassment from the other cafe-goers, despite all of them being far out of earshot from him.

"That actually sounds tempting." Jack grinned in complete honesty and lowered one of his hands down to his pants, feigning as if he was getting off to his new boyfriend with gentle moans and rolls of his hips.

"You need to learn to how to behave in public..." Neither of them pulled attention to the fact that the older of the two just banged his knee up against the table while crossing his limbs.

"Ummm...I remember the last time we were here together. You flirted with me until I had to go give myself a rather happy ending."

"Really? Not how I remembered it." Jack just smirked and stared as Pitch gave him a mock surprise with a naughty grin of knowing.

"Doesn't matter..." Jack grinned triumphantly, leaning over and running the very tip of his tongue up against Pitch's lower lip. Pitch responded in kind with a gentle peck before Jack slowly leaned back to escape the range of his kiss while winking.

Pitch didn't want to give up, especially when teased...Jack grinned as he leaned up closer against the younger man and took the bait – quick as lighting on of Jack's hands grabbed a rather nice and sizable handful of the older man's ass. He let out a quick pant that resembled a desperate whine of burning pleasure before moving back, surrendering.

Jack was surprised by the sheer intensity of his need and gave the now blushing boyfriend an impish smirk...'Oh I'll remember that...'

Bunnymund threatened both Pitch and Jack with police and a painfully slow death (respectively) and eventually the two lovebirds calmed it down.

They were randomly chewing the fat when Pitch brought up his cheek again.

'Damn it.' Jack whispered under his breath, certain that his lover would hear but not quite caring. He knew that neither of them would want to talk about this...he didn't want Pitch to know about something so personal and disturbing...

"I know you don't want to talk about it..." Pitch anxiously rubbed the back of the neck while he read Jack's mind like an open book. "But I don't suppose you just fell down some stairs."

"Please Pitch..." Jack whined, hiding the injury again with his hands.

"Jack, at least listen to what I have to say first before you try to wriggle your way out of this." His voice was intentionally less emotional then what it was before – part of Jack could recognize that he wasn't happy to have to talk with Jack about this but he felt it was necessary...like when a parent sat you down to talk about their alcohol ad-

'NO. You're with Pitch right now. He likes you. You two are actually something now. Forget about William.' He strained and yanked those thoughts back and centered on his other, giving him a nod to continue.

"Alright, I know that however you obtained that..." He sucked his teeth and looked away, as if annoyed by something before he looked back at the young Frost, his golden irises meeting icy blue twin snowflakes...and pausing to gaze into them for a moment, as if hypnotized. 'Beautiful...' "Blemish for lack of a better word, you don't want to talk about it and I know what we just met but...I really want to understand what happened to you, so I can help stop it." Jack's lips curled into a frown for a half second before they straightened. Pitch had no idea what he was getting into. "I know it must be hard to talk about but it just worries me when I see someone I love with any marks of harm on them."

"Don't worry about it."

"That's not going to stop me from worrying about it and about you."

"Pleas-"

"Jack." The seriousness of the tone prompted an answer that begged for a question – it wasn't something the teen could just wriggle his way out of like an escape artist...it wasn't something he wanted or had to answer with a truthful statement. "I know that you're obviously having troubles at home-"

"You know?!" Jack questioned before thinking about what time it was, when the fight occurred and then replaying the evening in his head – crime news was sparse in this area so he figured that if his father, the popular family man that he was, was discovered beating his wife and kids...everyone would know about it. It had been around what? Ten o'clock? Jack bet the police could've even went off and gotten donuts to come back home and see the man they just arrested on the evening news. "How?!" He needed to know if his family was safe, if his father really was going to prison, what was happening- the headache began in his head again, this time feeling as if his brain was boiling over inside of his skull.

"Jack, calm down." Pitch calmly grabbed him and brought him into a careful hug, sensing his inner turmoil from the looks in his eyes alone. Jack seemed to visibly relax as soon as he got closer to Pitch, even with Bunnymund practically standing directly over them with hawk-like eyes that dared them to go further. "It was just an educated guess is all, I really don't know what's going on in your life." He felt the stress completely melt off of Jack's shoulders and the pressure of his body fully relaxing into his own – he enjoyed that, but didn't vocalize it. "But that's why you need to let me in, you need to help me see so that way I can help you out of it."

"Why?" His voice was muffled by Pitch's shirt but was just clear enough to hear – especially with the wetness of tears soaking through the cloth. "Why do you care?"

"Because I care about you." He whispered with more happiness in his voice then what Jack could see as believable and began trying to wriggle out of his grasp. "Yes, I know how weird you think it is, I agree. I haven't even taken you out on a real date...but I do really care about you – I don't get intimate with people I don't like."

Jack's emotions were coming in ebbs and flows to the point of exhaustion. The ice cream and sweets helped, as did the sexual tension and need...in fact he was sure he stayed awake this long purely for the latter. He wanted to talk about his issues at home, about his family, but he didn't want to get his father into more trouble...but at the same time he came here for Pitch's emotional support.'What am I even doing here? It's what – 12:30 at night? I should be heading home...'

"If need be, I will buy you as much ice cream as you can eat for the next five years to know."

'…' Snowflake eyes glanced at the emptied bowls of ice cream and then back at the door. Did he really want to be home that badly? With his mother's screeching and yelling and constant berating? The answer was simple and quick: No.

And while talking about it wasn't easy, he knew it was what he needed, what he wanted. He came here with a resolve to talk to Pitch anyway – and maybe for a few other things too but that was another story entirely.

"Get me another extra large vanilla sundae with hot caramel and you're on."

He raised his hand in the air once again. "Bunnymund!"

He ate the frozen delight with the bounciness in his personality returning faster then what he thought it would, Pitch often dipping his fingers into the warm caramel that pooled on the side of the sweet treat and consume it with slow and deliberate licks that were both so he could enjoy the taste of what he was eating and tease Jack.

Worked like a charm and Jack's legs were crossed just as his were not fifteen minutes ago and still did now. Just the thought of all the misbehaved, naughty things Jack seemed to be able to talk about doing, allured to what he was actually capable of. It teased him to know what dirty thoughts plagued to the younger man's mind, how much he wanted Pitch to be inside of him, doing unspeakable things to his more then willing body until he was begging for mercy...and the older of the two would more then gladly oblige. He wanted to wrap his hands around that slender waist, let his fingers wander beyond the rem of those pants to tease the skin hidden for so long by such restrictive garments, pull him out of here with a seductive smirk, and take him to the backseat of his car in the nearby parking lot...'And drive it rough, straight into hi-...no...the car...drive Jack home, in my car...after?...no. Jack's hurt. Need to find out why...' Pitch steeled himself against getting the boy's body knelt and bent over with legs spread before him by 2 am.

"Jack. I know you think this silence will help you but..."

"Was your entire point of buying me whatever I wanted and kissing me when you saw me just to get me to speak?" Jack spoke in a clipped, impatient tone.

"Don't you dare try that on me." Pitch growled with a snarl that made Jack bit his lip to prevent the gasp that left him, fearful of seeing the older man's anger. "Don't try to demonize me for this. I want you to speak because I care about you."

"Kosmotis." Jack grinned and took another spoonful of ice cream before speaking, already seeing the tightening of his boyfriend's jaw increase. "I just got it. Cosmos." An obvious right turn to the conversation made in a desperate attempt to avoid speaking.

All previous mention of emotional rousing was gone and replaced with mirth and laughter. "You really only just now get it?" Pitch knew that Jack was switching emotions and topics so quickly just to calm himself down. Wouldn't be the first time he witnessed something like this.

"Yeah..."

"I suppose you never quite found your brain from the other day hmm?" A light chuckle let Jack think for a moment that he wasn't actually considering talking about his family and home – it seemed too personal, too soon...but he could tell that he was actually distressed and concerned for his well being, for his physical safety.

"No...I suppose I didn't. But I also suppose that no matter how much I try to stall you I'm going to have to talk about it anyway..." Jack said, voice suddenly low and exhausted.

"No. But Jack, I don't want you to feel like I'm pressuring you to tell me everything." He placed a reassuring hand on the teen's shoulders and gave him the gentlest smile he possibly could. "You don't have to immediately let out all of your emotions now - in fact I'd say that you probably shouldn't. Things like whatever could cause this-" He looked directly at the bruised face with a look of displeasure and personal offense, as if he was the one with the swollen cheek."...they take time."

Jack didn't respond for a long time, instead staring down at the melting remnants of his ice cream. He didn't want to tell but he wanted someone to know. He wanted to feel like there was someone out there who...understood.

"Alright. I'll tell you...but you have to promise me two things."

"Yes. Anything." A warm grin of care and happiness made Jack almost smile as well.

"You have to promise me that you won't tell anyone else." Pitch nodded and continued listening, extremely attentively considering the time and setting. "and that you won't...you know...judge me or my family for it."

"Of course Jack. I know better then to decide – with all due respect to you love – on someone in any way from a single story or opinion."

'He called me 'love'.' Jack thought before turning to Pitch and pressing a chaste peck on his lips, the faint smell and taste of caramel and vanilla making him want more and only his hardened will stopping him from taking anymore. "Alright..."

"Take your time." He spoke softly.

Jack took a calm and relaxed inhale through his nose as if mediating...and then allowed his emotions out, starting very slowly and antagonizing over every individual word as he spoke..."My father...is a drunk...he used to be a lot better then he is now." Another breather, another pause..."He was a happy drunk, believe it or not...when I was a kid I thought that it wasn't so bad but then he...he just kept on getting worse." He looked to Pitch, searching for a reason to stop – it hurt to speak. "Just...perpetually worse and worse...and then my mom gave birth to my little sister Mary."

He felt a shift in the seat and whirled round to see Pitch covering his mouth with his hand. He searched his face for a look of anger or disgust but all he could see was actual shock before he pulled his gray hand away from his mouth and turned to Jack with unsettled eyes. "I'm sorry...I'm fine, go ahead."

"Well...although he would keep on promising he would whenever he seemed sober...he just never quit even though he got angrier and angrier with anything and anyone..." He licked his lips and stared into space for a moment, remembering all the times he and his mother were stuck in that guest room – the safe room – waiting with hearts full of fear for him to stop, because he came back to the present with a jolt and sighed. "We would have to hide from him sometimes..." He said before mentally correcting himself, 'All the time.' "It would get so bad...but mom didn't want to leave...and you know how outside sources are...even if mom could care for us-"

"Foster care and child services wouldn't be able to keep you and Mary together." Pitch finished with more deadpan in his voice then he actually meant to have.

"Yeah..." He swiftly rubbed his hands together to get his mind off of leaving the cafe as soon as possible, keeping his hands free stopped him from pushing Pitch out of the way to leave. "Then after Mary was around three or so he would..." A hard swallow before he breathed in some life-giving air to feed his lungs and help him continue. "He would fight with mom. Physically. Not so much a serious punch or kick...but some pushing around...some bruises. None on her face. None in a visible spot." Jack wiped his eyes, feeling the beginnings of tears form at the corners of his eyes. "But today he hit her. He actually...with real force, hit her so...I threatened to call the police. He...he punched me in the face right as I pressed the button and called them. Then he just..." He sniffled and bit his lip, there something like a physical pain in his chest from just talking and he leaned closer to Pitch, wordlessly begging for contact that the older man gladly gave.

"You need not tell me anymore then what you think you can handle." He whispered quietly, letting Jack rest his head on the area in between his shoulder and neck. His breath was cold from his dessert, causing goosebumps on the exposed skin that it touched while he crawled up his neck, secretly stealing his breath and nearly making him twitch. "I love you...I don't want to hurt you. I'm not going to tell anyone else about this." Pitch looked around for any watchers or eavesdroppers. No one in sight except for a blonde girl that was sitting a ways away, still playing with her phone.

Jack took ample sniffles, trying not to cry even as tears slowly made their way down his face. "He just...beat me until I just...I just went unconscious and then the police came. I came to and then my mom...she yells at me. I went to help her, stop dad from hitting her and she yells at me like I did something wrong..." His voice wavered and fluttered about as he broke down, crying into hist open palms while Pitch embraced him, holding him as close as he possibly could.

Inwardly, he cried with him. He knew what it was like to have to take care of a child under such a condition with a parent not picking up their weight when they should...Pitch shook his head and gently kissed Jack's hair repeatedly, admiring how deceptively soft it was even while it looked so spiky, not unlike icicles. "You didn't do anything wrong..."

"My mother fucking hates me, my father's a drunk, my little sister just can't live like this." Jack shook his head, whimpering into his beloved with shaky shoulders."...my mom tells me I'm an idiot because now they might keep him and there'll be no one to pay the bills and tells me it's all my fault." He knew he was just unloading like a dump truck here, he knew that there was no sense to anything he was saying and that he sounded like a hysterical lunatic...but this is what he needed. Above him he could feel and hear the snarl in his partner's throat and tried to stifle his sounds and tears, believing to be pushing his boyfriend away already and unable to handle it anymore. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't."

"It's fine. Really." Pitch kissed him again but moved further back this time, kissing the base of Jack's neck before continuing to rub calming circles on his back.

"It's just...my family could be ripped apart by this...and it'll be my fault..." His nails scratched the sides of his head, it felt like his brain was going to explode with the boiling just becoming too much. It was too hot, his body felt too heated and not in the way Pitch would normally make it feel.

"It's not your fault." He noticed the obvious signs of panic and did all that he could to calm Jack down, gentle rubbing and whispering – but it wasn't helping visually. "Stop saying that...you don't deserve any of the blame for what happened."

"Then whose fault is it?" Jack didn't look up from his palms and the memory of Mary giving him a look that begged for the answer of a similar question burned in his eyes behind the lids. He remembered not getting an appropriate answer when he tried to reply to her there either.

"Not yours, obviously. I mean...you're only what? 18?"

"I'm 17."

"Close enough. It's not your fault. You shouldn't have to place all that weight on your shoulders to begin with. If anything you're the most blameless person in your situation right next to your sister." Jack suddenly looked up towards his companion as if forgetting that he told his listener about his little sister before remembering that he did just that not five minutes ago. Then he gazed at him for a long time, forgetting that they were even in a cafe...

'He actually cares...' Jack felt part of himself break down as his face approached Pitch's own – their lips meeting in a soft graze that the young wanted to save in his memory for an eternity. There was a sense of security and beautifully simple safety – a sense of 'I'll always be there for you. Always.'. This kiss just felt so much different, so contrasting to the other one with caramel - it was more intimate, more personal. There was just a part about it that sent Jack's heart aflutter and made his stomach do back-flips before changing places with his liver. Pitch's thumb brushed against the very tip of his chin before a single finger ran down his exposed neck, here one moment and gone the next like a ghostly touch he would always remember, leaving a trail of fiery hot skin and goosebumps behind.

And then suddenly there was nothing to press his mouth against – Pitch had pulled back and was staring at him like he was a science project gone horribly wrong and so the younger man licked up lips, turning towards his half melted dessert with an unreadable look.

"I..." The sound came out as a pant from the aghast mouth of his grayish lover. Jack didn't want to look at him, as if the slightest meeting of their eyes again would make him combust in flames on the spot or shatter into pieces like glass. The moment just felt too delicate and important for him to ruin it with a mere gaze. "It's almost three in the morning Jack." An unmistakable attempt to change the subject and pull any and all attention away from the elephant in the room but Jack let it slide and nodded in agreement without looking at him.

"Yeah...we should probably get home."

"'We?'" Pitch grinned at Jack before smoothly gliding out of the seat, like a dark shadow. "Getting a little ahead of ourselves I see."

"We almost had sex in a cafe booth, I think I can make that mistake without being a 'little ahead' of myself." Jack said in a matter-of-fact type way as he pushed himself out of the booth, only for his vision to swim lightly and collapse into Pitch's arms.

"Are you alright?" A worried hand checked his temperature and he chuckled lightly.

"Just tired. I'm fine...just take me home..."

"Alright...and where would that be?"

"You got a car?"

"Yes..."

"About three minutes...I'll show you the way." Jack finally righted himself and got up fully without the help of Pitch – sugar could only energize the human body to such a point, sleep was eventually needed...and Jack was so happy that today was Sunday and his bed would be right there, waiting for him in his room.

Jack couldn't see and didn't care what model or color of car Pitch drove. All he could tell was that it was new, pretty, shiny, black on the outside because why stop the streak when your just going so well after all...and had a wide open backseat. The seats were nice and comfortable but as he climbed into the car, he remembered...

'Unless you want a different type of ride from the backseat of my car you'll stop that.' The voice echoed through his mind and he couldn't help but wish to have the energy required to flirt seductively with the man who was currently climbing into the driver's seat...but he did have enough energy to make a move.

"Pitch, what is this?" Jack pointed randomly to part of the seat without really specifying anything and his lover took the bait once more, turning around and leaning over into the back of the car from his own seat only to be pulled mouth to mouth to Jack, who took the other man out of his seat as he relaxed into the back seat, their lips moving against each other as they fell.

Pitch didn't hesitate and moved into the seat with a risque smirk against Jack's lips as he moved closer, hovering over the teen and dominating the kiss, taking his time to play around in the warm and accommodatingly wet cavern. 'Not too cute. Not at all..something much more.' He thought as he climbed on top of the smaller lover, wanting to take him over completely with his presence, his body and his touch.

Jack moaned into Pitch's mouth before turning away from an inner mixture of nervousness and tiredness. Pitch took the opportunity to swoop down and kiss a trail down his neck, taking his precious time while he headed straight to the protruding collar bone located there. His rolled his hips into Jack's and his exhausted partner discharged a moan of such passion and want that it made Pitch think that just maybe, he was dreaming or on the verge of fucking a living angel.

"Jack...please I need to mark you." The voice was all business and enough to make the fatigued teen sit up in his seat, the back of his mind noting only briefly that Pitch's crotch was right above his on the verge of grinding down and driving him insane with mere friction and pressure alone.

"Don't..." Every nerve on his body wanted Pitch to mark him, like he was his territory, his possession, his item. Only his to mark and kiss and touch and love and drive half crazed with need when the time came, Jack almost ground his hips upward at the thought. He wanted it so bad...but what would his mother and perhaps his father say about that when he got home? What would it make them think and do?

Not anything good, that's for damn sure.

"Why not?"

"Parents don't know I'm gay and...you know..." It almost shocked him to say that before he reflected on the massive amount of girls that Jamie forced upon him – none of them were ugly, rude or unattractive in any way that he could see, he just didn't have any interest in them but he did have an interest for Jamie, and upon recognizing that he was gay he was surprisingly okay with it compared to how he heard some parents would react.

"Ah...true...but can't you hide it?"

"I don't want to hide it. There's no point if I hide it." Jack whispered sleepily, so comfortable with Pitch's body right above him. "If I get one I want to show it off."

"Oh...oh that's just..." 'Hot as fucking hell.' Pitch thought obscenely picturing Jack wearing an open collared shirt, showing off all the passionate love bites and bruises that were applied by his older lover's mouth and hands... part of him considered what stains he would make in the tapestry of his car if he and Jack just threw all caution, decency, patience and care to the wind and fucked him against the car door until he couldn't feel his lower half anymore...

It'd be worth it.

So fucking worth it.

But it was around 3:30 am.

And Jack's parents were abusive enough as it is without him being out late at night having sex with gray skinned men in the back of black cars that they'd never seen before.

'Damn it.' Pitch whispered before dismounting Jack. They both groaned lightly and the older of the two took the steering wheel. "Don't fall asleep, I need you to direct me."

"Alright, first we get to my place-" Jack yawned and rolled over to his side. "Then we get into my house, completely ignore my mom and dad's existence, tear off our clothing as we make out up my steps before we snog and fuck each other's brains out on my bed."

Jack's lack of tact when it came to talking about sex...was doing nothing good for Pitch's crotch area right now."...Jack. Please." 'If you don't stop this, I will fuck you straight into the upholstery of the car.'

"Alright fiiiiiiiiiiine." He resigned to tiredly leading Pitch to his place while he lazily moved and collapsed into the front passenger's seat with a pout that the other found to be the most adorable thing he's ever seen.

As he dozed off on the way there, Pitch grinned mischievously and pushed a small piece of crumpled up paper into the younger man's back-pocket.

Despite being a mysterious black car, driving around at about 3:30 am with a half asleep – perhaps fully—teenager in the front seat with a massive bruise on his face and no seat belt on, Pitch found that no one bothered them. 'Thank god for lazy police.' He rationally praised before he at last saw the house that Jack had described as his.

He couldn't believe drunks actually lived here – it was a massive light blue and white house with a beautiful front porch, a well taken care of garden on front complete with lawn gnomes and children's toys scattered about haphazardly.

"They can look really convincing." He said aloud, reading Pitch's mind like a book within a matter of seconds.

"As I can see..." If it wasn't for the fact that he knew better then to judge from appearances, he would be in a state of complete disbelief.

"Thanks for driving me." Jack leaned over and checked the windows into the living room, seeing a lack of his mother's, father's or Mary's face he swooped up and stole a quick peck from his new boyfriend's cheek before opening the opposite car door. "And thanks for everything else too." He stepped out of the car and closed it behind him, walking round the car to enter his room as quickly as he could.

'...You have no idea how welcome you are.' Pitch mumbled, touching the spot where Jack kissed him as if it was a sanctified point of his very being. Carefully and cautiously, with profound reverence and love. Before yanking and tearing his hands away and demanding them to stay on the steering wheel so he could drive himself home...and get rid of the damn problem that Jack had caused.

The young blonde scrolled through the massive amount of pictures she took of the beloved new couple in the cafe. Jack and Pitch. Kissing and touching, delicious little wisecracks and flirting were recorded on her phone as video. Enough to make a soft-core gay porno out of.

She almost wanted to.

Almost.

But she had a much better plan for these...

'Now...onto other things...' A knowing grin plastered on her lips.

She got up and left, leaving an idle twenty on the table and pocketing her phone as she went, singing a little song as she left.


Fun fact: Another term for goosebumps is skin erection.

And yes that is COMPLETELY true.

Song is Kiss from a Rose by Seal