There's a long pause before Jack can bring himself to say anything. He's not entirely sure why Pitch wants him to talk about this. Maybe it's the whole talking dirty thing – Jack doesn't have any experience with that and doesn't think he'll be much good at it. But the way Pitch is looking at him, god, he can barely see his expression in the dim lamplight, but what he can see is enough to pin him to the sofa. If this is what Pitch wants, he's going to do his damned best. He licks his lips and gives the world's most pathetic laugh.

"So - what, you wanna know everything? Well, I had my first kiss when I was about six, my cousin grabbed me at a wedding-"

"I want to hear your sexual experiences," Pitch interrupts, calm and smooth and jesus, just listening to that voice is a sexual experience. "Have all your experiences been with men?"

"Uh. Yeah."

"Then tell me about your first time. A hand job? A bow job?"

Jack purses his lips as he breathes out, and slouches back against the sofa, trying and failing to get comfortable. He sits forward again, upright. Somehow he feels like Pitch would appreciate good posture. "It - it was one of my friends. It was his birthday, we'd kind of been drinking and - he kissed me and– Well, you know."

"No, I don't. I want you to tell me. That's the whole point."

"You're getting off on this, aren't you?"

"Yes. I am," Pitch says and his smile shows teeth. It burns through Jack's embarrassment and suddenly he wants to do anything Pitch asks.

"I'd liked him for ages, he liked me, but it was the first time we kissed. And - it got pretty hot. He ended up on top of me on the sofa - our other friends were in the next room watching TV. He touched me. Through my jeans. And I thought - well. I'm gonna go one better. So I unzipped his pants and pulled him out. Played with him. Made him come."

A pause. "Just with your hand?"

"Yeah."

Pitch looks thoughtful and then crosses his ankles. Something about it reminds Jack of his therapist. For a moment Jack is annoyed at that thought – he doesn't want to think of that now – but unerringly his thoughts swing back to sex. A bit of roleplay; yeah, Jack could be into that. Not therapist, though. Doctor and patient. Pitch in a white coat. Jack in stirrups.

"And have you done anything else with this friend?"

"Sure." Jack doesn't really want to talk about Jamie. He's still one of the most important people in Jack's life, and it can't be reduced down to just sex. "But uh - no kinky stuff."

"No? Tell me about that, then."

"The first time… The first time was with one of my brother's friends. I ran into him in a bar. I thought for sure that he'd tell North, or shove me in a taxi home. But he - looked at me. The way you look at me."

"The way I look at you?" The words are teasing, demanding an answer that Pitch is already well aware of.

"Intense. Like you want to tie me up and do everything to me."

"Oh, I do, Jack," and if Jack wasn't already hard he damn well is now. "But finish your story: what did your brother's friend do to you?"

"He took me home. We were both kinda tipsy but he whispered in my ear – said I was a bad boy and that I needed a good spanking. And – I said he should. I said yes please. So he put me over his knee and – well. My ass was black and blue the next day."

Pitch shifts, and Jack wonders if his cock is straining against his zipper the same way Jack's is. The light's too dim to tell, but he likes to think so. Likes to think that Pitch wants him just as much as Jack wants Pitch. "Did you like that?"

"You're looking at me like that again, Pitch. And yeah. I did. I was so hard – so hard," he adds, because if Pitch is getting off on this then Jack's going to play up to it, "Just from being spanked. And then he told me to get on my knees and suck him off. He came almost straight away," Jack adds with a frown.

"You didn't like that he came so soon?"

"No. I was just getting into it. Spoiled my fun."

"You like sucking cock?"

"God yeah."

Pitch's hand drops down to squeeze his own cock and Jack sucks in a breath. It takes every ounce of willpower not to go over there and drop to his knees. But no - if Pitch is in charge here, then Jack will wait for the order.

"Good to hear."

"Then he told me to get naked and jerk myself off." Jack strips off his hoodie as if emphasising his point, and Pitch's eyes roam Jack's tattoos hungrily. His hands tighten on the arms of the chair like it's an effort to keep them there, like he wants to touch, and Jack wishes he would.

"And did you?"

"'Course I did. I would have exploded if I didn't."

"And did you like him watching you?" Pitch cocks his head and raises an eyebrow. His expression is cool but even in the twilit room Jack can see the heat that simmers in his eyes. It makes it kind of hard to breathe. He shifts in his seat, trying to get some relief from the tightness of his trousers. It doesn't work at all and the friction makes him give a quiet gasp.

"Yeah," he manages. "I did."

Pitch nods, as though he's digesting this new information; he looks to the side, thoughtful for a moment. Jack realises that he finds everything about Pitch fascinating and deeply attractive: every expression, every movement, every goddamn stitch on his clothes.

"What's your favourite position, Jack? If I were to fuck you, right now, how would you like it?"

"I like - on my back." Jack's voice is hoarse and he feels dizzy. Can you get dizzy from being the hardest you've ever been in your life, he wonders vaguely. "On my back. So I can look up at my - at the other person."

Pitch practically purrs. "And do you want to get on your back for me, Jack?"

"God, yes."

"And how about on your knees?"

"Yes."

Pitch looks thoughtful for a moment and then crooks his finger at Jack. "Then come here."