"I'm pretty sure I'm gonna come within seconds on you touching me."
Pitch's smile widens, and then he leans down to kiss Jack with such ferocity that it quite literally takes Jack's breath away. He's left lying on his back and sucking in lungfuls of air as Pitch reaches over to the nightstand to get-
To get a tube of lube out of the drawer. Oh.
Jack swallows.
Pitch eases himself off Jack to sit on the edge of the bed, looking down at him. "Undress, Jack."
That sounds like an excellent idea. Jack considers lingering, teasing, a bit of payback because god knows Pitch has been teasing him, but it's more important right now to be naked.
He wriggles out of his jeans and throws them to the side, followed quickly by the rest of his clothes. All the while Pitch watches Jack, every ounce of attention on him. When Jack is naked he falls back onto the bed, watching Pitch watch him. His breathing is shallow, heart racing. No one has ever looked at him like this, and it's not just the heat in his eyes but the - the focus. Like there is nothing else Pitch is thinking about. Like no-one else even exists for Pitch right now. And Jack - Jack could get used to this. To being the centre of someone's universe, even if it is only for an hour or so.
And then Pitch flips open the lube and Jack's train of thought derails and bursts into flames.
"How long has it been, Jack?"
"Um - the last guy was a couple of months ago."
Pitch nods thoughtfully. "Do you like to finger yourself - or perhaps you have toys you like to use?"
"No. The angle- It's too awkward." He licks his lips. Pitch is far too find of talking when there's more interesting things to do. "And toys - no. I - don't have any."
"Perhaps I should get you a gift, then."
A gift. Of buttplugs or dildos or whatever Pitch is talking about. Could there be anything more romantic?
"I always like gifts," he says, and then points at the lube. "Weren't you about to do something?"
"Ah yes." Pitch drips some onto his fingers until they are slick and shiny. With he other hand he pushes Jack's legs wide, scratching his nails down Jack's inner thigh. "Now. Give me a colour, Jack."
"Green, already, get on with it," Jack says, breath hitching.
Pitch smirks. "Then put your hands behind your head."
Once Jack has done as directed – and only then – Pitch lowers his hand until his cool, lube-slick finger is pressed against Jack's hole. He glances up at Jack, who nods frantically, before pushing in.
Jack yelps. It doesn't hurt. He's so turned on that the finger slides in easily, but still, the feel of it, knowing that this is Pitch, that this is finally happening after being forced to wait-
His hands curl in his own hair and he bites down on his lip, hard, in an attempt to control himself.
Don't come yet. Don't come yet, he tells himself, but Pitch's finger is moving inside of him, and he's already so hard, and Pitch's cock felt so good in his mouth. Jack's at the end of his tether, he can't take much more of this, he can't.
Another finger against his hole, a pause, and Jack nods eagerly, desperately. It slides in, a little pressure this time and Jack whines, bucking his hips up, he needs more, he needs more-
And then Pitch - still smirking, still smirking - curls his fingers inside Jack and the world explodes. Distantly he hears himself scream but mostly his attention is on the pleasure that's smashing into him, so much, too much.
It feels like he's drowning, or floating, or both, and he's on the verge of panicking when he feels the warmth and weight of arms around his waist, a body next to his.
"It's alright, Jack," Pitch whispers to him. "It's alright," over and over like a mantra until the panic slips away, until all Jack's left with is the toe-curling bliss of coming so very hard. Toe-curling, he thinks, and does just that, curls all of his toes, and giggles. Pitch pulls back to look at him and Jack just smiles up.
"It's alright, Pitch," Jack echoes, and after a moment Pitch smiles, moving back down to cuddle him.
"Yes. Yes it is."