Ah, sorry for all the delays! Real life has been somewhat overwhelming, as of late. Not to mention I was sidetracked with anew multichapter, totally and accident FYI, plus I have a third in the works.
So yes, more fic is coming, In the meantime, enjoy.
Jack stared angrily; gaze powered by the force of a thousand fiery suns worth of riotous fury. Jack glared with all his might, like his nemesis could be cowed by nothing but sheer force of will alone. Jack mentally threw little daggers of hate with his eyeballs, in the futile hopes of defeating this most heinous of foe from a distance.
Before him, the bathtub sat innocently and unperturbed by the loathing being projected at it, steam curling in lazy wisps off the placid surface. To anyone else, the tub might look inviting, tempting, relaxing. To Jack it looked like a man-sized torture device. Or, well, Pooka sized, to be honest you could probably fit three of Jack in there without touching either the sides or each other. Huffing in frustration, Jack spun around, stalking across the bathing room to the large mirror. Mirrors and Jack had a strange relationship. For most of his immortal life, mirrors were nothing but a patch of smooth ice, or perhaps a bit of still water. It wasn't until mankind had begun to build their cities from glass and steel as opposed to wood and brick that Jack had seen his first proper mirror. The smooth surface had intrigued him, as had the face staring back at him, Previously Jack had only had a vague idea of what he looked like; thin face, blue eyes, white hair. Seeing himself with crystal clarity for the first time and been both fascinating, and a little horrifying. After that the sight of his own face had always set Jack a bit on edge. He avoided his reflection in shop windows, and made scarce if he somehow encountered a mirror. Now though, standing in front of the wall-mounted full length, Jack found himself fighting the urge to look. He didn't fight long though, and, carefully propping his staff against the wall, gave in to the urge and began to strip, dumping his filthy clothes in an untidy heap on the floor to his left. He stood there still as death; eyes closed for a full ten-count, before he took a deep breath and opened them.
The boy in the mirror is more than skinny, he is frail. He's lost weight; he knows he has, because not only has he gone off of eating, it's begun to show on his delicate frame, which was always narrow but now looks emaciated. He's so underfed that his stomach is nearly concave, his ass so flat there is no delineation between lower back and upper thigh. The jut of collarbones is pronounced, every rib is accounted for under too-thin skin, and his shoulder blades stick out like bony wings. It's worse than that though, and Jack can't blame it all on his recent fasting and illness, poor genetics have to be blamed at some point. Looking at himself like this, Jack can see that he's all arm and leg and neck, like some kind of pale, malformed Giraffe. Comparatively, his knees and elbows are massive; knobby, ugly things that he never grew into. His hands and feet are sharp, awkward, with nails ragged from running barefoot or habitual biting. As for his face; well, narrow is perhaps being generous, pointy would probably be better, especially now, when his cheekbones are sharp enough to cut and his eyes, once believed to be his best feature, are sunken and so heavily shadowed they looked bruised. Jack's mouth is too thin and narrow for even masculine beauty, his ears stick out like beacons and his hair is a lost cause, the wind forever tugging it into a tangled mop.
Yeah, Jack's a stunner, all right. At least his teeth are good, as Tooth and her fairies are so fond of pointing out.
Scowling, Jack turns away from the mirror, disappointed as always. More often than not, now that he had his memories back, Jack found himself missing the boy he'd been, with the warm brown eyes and chocolate hair. That boy had looked softer, approachable. That boy had all the time in the world to grow into gangly limbs, to master and take ownership of his body, as opposed to being perpetually stuck being ruled by it. Mostly though, that boy had a family, people to care for his and nurture him that weren't overgrown lagomorphs with shitty attitudes. If it wasn't for the fact that Jack's pale skin was nearly as grey at Pitch's in some places with ground-in dirt, he'd had said a nice big FUCK-YOU to Bunny's bathing edict and made a break for the outside world, deal be damned.
Which was a nice thought, but honestly, Jack was starting to smell himself, and it wasn't pretty. Not to mention that, while he'd never admit to it, even under duress, Jack didn't believe he'd even have the strength to fly away right now. In fact, he'd had to lean so heavily on his staff just to walk to the bathroom without being carried that Jack was sure Bunny had figured it out. Why the other spirit hadn't said anything though, Jack didn't know. Although, being mollycoddled the whole way would have been worse, so Jack was grudgingly grateful that his fellow Guardian had kept his mouth shut.
Without his staff, Jack could feel himself sway a bit in place, sore muscles slowly protesting the effort required to keep him upright and in motion. Jack threw another glare at the bathtub, hating it's very existence but knowing he was going to cave and get in anyway, if only to no longer be vertical. It's not that Jack has some weird kind of aquaphobia or anything, it's just that submersion in water of more than just his feet to the ankles, or hands to the elbow tended to remind him of the icy-cold shock of hitting the water, punching the air out of him and wrapping steel bands around his lungs until everything had gone black, limbs that had been jerking with knife-like pains stilling as the last vestiges of life had slipped away. Jack knew now that he'd been gone within a couple of minutes, but in all his terrified recollections, those moments last hours. While he'd never regret the sacrifice he'd made for his sister, Jack hasn't been wildly crazy about baths since he opened that memory box and relived the experience, thank you very much.
Biting the bullet, Jack carefully eased himself down into the tub, which was submerged in the floor like a personal-sized swimming pool. The water wasn't nearly as hot as Bunny undoubtedly liked it and had cooled a bit further during Jack's introspection, but it was still warm enough that Jack couldn't quite suppress a moan cause by pure temperature sensation. Residual nerves dropped the water temp another couple degrees, but without his staff and as weak as he was, Jack knew the water didn't stand a chance of icing. The extent of the weakness in him was worrisome to think of, and exacerbated by sitting in a puddle of death, but Jack pushed the anxiety aside, forcing himself to relax into it instead. Tremors of lingering fear still slithered along the back of Jack's neck, but he ignored them, instead focussing on working the provided bar of soap into a rich, lavender-scented lather. Jack work hurriedly, racing against his discomfort, but also being as thorough as possible, knowing that being properly clean would be a luxury unheard of once he returned for good to Burgess, where the only bath available would be the pond he'd drowned in, which was a big fat NO. Also, now that he had believers, bathing in public might not be as acceptable as it once had been. Assuming course, he didn't just freeze the water solid, as per usual.
Damn drowning death. Jack gave it a 0/10; would not recommend to others. Gradually though, Jack began to relax a bit, aided by the fact that he was easily tall enough, even short as he was to stand up and keep his head clear above water. Soon, he'd calmed enough to be able to enjoy the pleasure of a warm bath, the feeling of sloughing off layers of dirt and grime to be clean again. After so long, the experience was nearly sensual, and Jack could help making a soft noise of appreciation for the sensation.
"Well lookit that, there is in fact a winter sprite hidden under all that muck." Jack yelped, startled by Bunny's sudden nearness, throwing himself to the other side of the bath and spinning to put his back to the opposite edge, arms gripping the sides to lever himself out in a jiffy if needed, his shock cooling the water even further until it was barely tepid. Glaring up at the other man, Jack bared his teeth with something close to a snarl, hoping to convey his absolute displeasure at the surprise entrance. For his part, Bunny just raised one eyebrow in response. It was then that Jack noticed his hoodie and pants thrown over one furry arm.
"Hey, where you making off with those, I'm going to need them in a minute!" Bunny blinked a moment, as if confused.
"These things? Frostbite, there's more dirt on them that fabric in them, they need a proper scrub. Once you're done splashing about, I'll be draining and refilling it for laundry. They'll be clean and dry by sunup."
"And what am I supposed to do until then genius? Wander about naked like you? Oh wait, some of us don't have a built-in fur coat to hide our pride and joy." Jack sunk lower into the water, letting the liquid come right up to his chin, hoping that the soap suds would help with hiding said 'pride and joy' for the extent of the conversation. If Jack had been expecting Bunny to be embarrassed by the conversation, he was sorely disappointed when the other reacted only with amusement.
"Please kid, ain't nothing you've got that I don't, except probably bigger and better on me, naturally." Bunny's tone was casual, but with a wicked edge, and despite himself Jack felt the frost spread across his cheekbones in a cold blush. His obvious embarrassment seemed to please Bunny enough for the topic to be dropped however, and the other proceeded to hold up a garment approximately the size of a small circus tent. "Anyways, the Jack Frost Naked Hour won't be necessary; I've got a bathrobe here for when you're done."
Jack couldn't' help but gape for a minute at the large green hunk of terrycloth. While it looked comfortable enough, it also looked big enough for him and Bunny to share, and wow, where did that thought come from, and while we're at it, hello again blush.
"Bunny! I can't wear that! It's huge! It'll be like, a, well, a big green dress! I mean, I'm forward thinking, but I draw the line at dressing like a chick." Which Jack totally did, cause skirts looked too breezy for his tastes and he was always flying so people could just look right up there at his junk, and who thought that wrapping a tiny bit of fabric around the hips was a practical wardrobe option, anyways? Bunny for his part simply threw his head back and laughed, and Jack was suddenly struck by the weirdness of the moment; here he was, naked in the bath, with Bunny of all people. Not in the bath with him, just in the room. And not naked, well, no more naked then he always was, which was weird on its own, so technically there were naked together, and Jack was wet and the earlier warmth of the water had done funny things to him, so he might've been just a little bit hard even though his embarrassment had killed it, mostly. Not quite completely, though maybe, and wow, okay, Aster had nice teeth too, very white and even despite looking nothing like human teeth. Which is about the only thing they have in common at all, and wow Jack, it is definitely time to get a grip! With a mighty yank Jack reigned in both libido and shame, though just barely.
"Well if you're through having a chuckle at my expense, you could drop the ladies evening wear and leave me to it. Unless you want to watch?" Jack's tone on the last sentence was biting, daring, and Bunny stopped laughing, a calculating flash in his eyes as he gave Jack a once over. Jack had risen out of the water a couple inches while speaking without realizing it, exposing the curve of his shoulders and the lines of his biceps and forearms to the cooler air, the temperature discrepancy raising gooseflesh along his arms and making his nipples pebble even beneath the water and out of Bunny's line of site. The other regarded him for a long moment, probably too long, and Jack felt like a butterfly pinned to a board and under a magnifying glass. He wanted to duck under the water entirely; hide his face, hide his undesirability beneath the surface, but he held firm, holding Bunny's gaze until the rabbit looked away, green eyes skating over Jack's body like the water was transparent to his gaze. This was just another competition, Jack told himself, unable to quite suppress the shiver cause by the inspection. This was just another jab at each other, another way to poke until they bruised, the way they always did. Yet, even as Jack tried to convince himself, the air seeming to stretch taut between them, rife with some sort of unspoken implication that Jack wasn't sure he fully understood. Then, Bunny shrugged casually and the moment broke. Folding the robe and laying it down within easy reach of the tub, Bunny sauntered over to where a washboard had been left lying, dumping Jack's dirty clothes on top of it in preparation for later washing.
"Well, get on with it then, ice boy. Time's a wastin'." Bunny said over his shoulder, not deigning to look at Jack behind him. "Sooner you get back onto those toes of yours the sooner we get you whipped into shape." His piece now said, Bunny made for the door, only to pause just before exiting.
"Y'know kid, no funny business in that tub, yeah?" Green eyes met blue as Bunny looked back over his shoulder at Jack, gaze full of a meaning that Jack took a moment to catch.
"Funny business? I don't know what you... oh, OH, EW, Bunny! No, I wasn't I mean I wouldn't, just, fucking hell, GET OUT!" Jack was tempted to toss the bar of soap at those stupid rabbit ears to illustrate his point, it being the only thing at hand, but then he'd be forced to climb out and cross the room wet and nude and still half-dirty to get it back, which was a more alarming prospect then letting Bunny get away with his naughty accusations. Again though, Jack was apparently more hilarious than intimidating, because Bunny just laughed; a rich, vibrant sound that caught strangely in Jack's chest and belly.
"Well kiddo, I will say this..." Bunny turned from the door, taking a couple steps back into the room to put him closer to the tub, and Jack was suddenly hyper aware that again he'd stood up during his little speech, and was now bare to the waist before the other man, droplets of water running from his hairline down his chest and stomach to meet the surface, which came up to just above his navel. When Bunny spoke, Jack was transfixed, unable to ignore him, their eyes catching and holding.
"I don't know what you were doing when I walked in, but I don't make noises like that in the bath without getting up to a little something, if yeh catch my drift, mate." Bunny's grin was a flash of pure evil, and it left Jack gaping as he wandered away nearly cackling with manic glee. Once he was gone, Jack closed his mouth with an audible snap, sinking back into decidedly cool water. Well, he still had a bath to finish, so he'd better get to it, and try not to think about what Bunny had implied he'd been doing earlier. Or what Bunny had also implied that he did in this very tub...
Those were not good thoughts, not good at all, not about a six foot tall fuzzy animal with an ugly temper. Determined, Jack shoved all thoughts of masturbation, his own or otherwise from his mind, and set to work on finger-combing the dirt clods out of his hair, aided by a generous handful of soap bubbles.
And if he spent the rest of the bath with an awkward boner, well, he was an eternal teenager; a nice pattern on the linoleum could make him hard. Nothing more to it than that, really.