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The Trick Is To Keep Breathing

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Jack gasped as teeth bit into his ribs, gently enough not to break the skin but rough enough to hurt, to leave a red mark on his slick alabaster like skin. A hand slid up the other side of his body as a tongue laved over the bite, soothing as the hand reached his nipple, thumbing it in slow circles, making him clench his fists and strain at the leather cuffs that bound his hands above his head, arching his back in want. 

A rumble went through his skin as the mouth chuckled, slick lips leaving his skin momentarily, even as the thumb continued its ministrations. "What do you want Jack? Do you want more? Tell me". 

Jack bit his lip, eyes closing under the material blindfold despite the fact he couldn’t see anything. More more, he couldn’t believe there could be such a thing but Jack knew he was right. They were only just scratching the surface of a world Jack barely knew anything about but so badly needed, badly wanted.  

He knew there was more, more than simple binding cuffs, more than being chained to a bed by those cuffs, more than blindfolds but he couldn’t even imagine it; not when he was being undone with delicate touches, nips and bites and kisses and words and a silver tongue that had a mind of its own and knew exactly where it should go to make Jack moan and tremble and feel things that were beyond arousal, beyond tantalization, beyond what he'd experienced before. 

The mouth left his side as the other sat up, thumb leaving his nipple, exposing it to the cold air. Instead, the hands went to his spread thighs, stroking down them gently, thumbs stroking the joint of his hips before they slid their way back up to his knees again. "Talk to me Jack. Tell me or I'll stop. You don’t want to stop now, do you? Not when it feels so good...", he asked, thumbs moving to stroke the inside of his thighs instead, getting closer to what Jack wanted before moving away again, so teasingly close. 

"I...I want you...you in...inside me" Jack stuttered out, inhaling sharply when a thumb stroked his entrance, massaging the puckered flesh as the other hand left his thigh, fingers teasingly walking up from his hip to his ribs and chest, pinpoints of sensitivity on his trembling flesh. 

"In here?". A fingernail trailed down the centre of his chest, over his stomach as the thumb continued to circle, Jack letting out a frustrated noise that tapered off into a moan.  

"Yes...please...please...My King...I want it" he whined, a foot grazing the sheets as he tried to push up his hips, to move the teasing to taking but slipped instead, an aborted thrust. 

He felt a breath of warm air against his thigh, an exhale of arousal as a cheek pressed against the inside of his thigh, a light kiss pressed against it. "Good Jack, so very good". 

As a lube-slicked finger slid inside him, an almost unbearably hot wet heat simultaneously covered the head of his cock, Jack pressing his head back into the pillow as he cried out in bliss.  


 

Earlier 

Jack bit his lip as he stared up at the polished wooden door in front of him, his hand raised and hovering just above the thick stained oak, trying to summon the courage to knock. 

Finally, FINALLY, the moment he had been waiting for, planning for; for days, weeks, MONTHS, was here but now that he was faced with the prospect, his nerves had fled, abandoning him when he needed them most, stood on a strangers front porch. 

Well. Not a COMPLETE stranger, but texts, web chats and the occasional blog update were nothing compared to meeting face to face for the first time. 

Sighing in annoyance with himself Jack shook his limbs, trying to lose some of the tension from his muscles before taking a deep breath, breathing out slowly as he rapped his knuckles lightly on the door, wringing his hands together as he heard footsteps approach. 

He bowed his head, looking down at his blue and white sneakers as the door opened. “May I help you?” a sleek, silky voice asked, Jack’s eyes flickering to the polished black dress shoes in front of him. 

“Hi...hi there...Kozmotis, is it? My names Jack...Jack Frost? I ahhh...” he trailed off awkwardly, eyes darting everywhere but to the person before him. 

“Ahh Jackson! I didn’t recognise you, you’ve dyed your hair” the voice replied, its smoothness sending a wave of warmth through Jack. “You’re also earlier then I expected”. 

“I...I’m sorry is this a bad time? I...I can come back later if you want...” Jack stuttered, grabbing the rucksack he had dropped at his feet and pulling it onto his shoulder. 

“Not at all...please come in”. The shoes stepped aside, Jack hesitating before walking inside, taking a moment to glance around at his surroundings as the door was closed behind him.  

The inside of the house was just as foreboding as the outside, the floor a dark polished wood that matched the front door, the walls decorated in varying shades of black and silver-grey. The whole place had a very Victorian-Era aesthetic feeling to it, and Jack couldn’t help but feel intimidated as he followed the dress shoes into an office like room, dropping his rucksack at his feet as he sat in a plush lounge chair. 

“A drink? Coffee? Tea maybe?” the silky voice enquired, Jack clenching his hands in his lap. 

“Tea please...milk no sugar” he replied quietly, the shoes clacking against the floor as the person left, Jack risking a glance up as the person left, only to catch a glimpse of black before they disappeared from the room. 

As sounds drifted from the kitchen, Jack looked around the room he was currently occupied in. A desk with a laptop and table lamp stood beside a bookcase that took up one corner of the room, the laptop open but switched off. Before him in the centre of the room, was a wooden coffee table, a larger version of the chair that Jack was sat upon placed across from him at the other side of the table. A small standalone drawer stood by the door with a picture stood on top of it, but other than that the room was bare of furnishings; it seemed to Jack like a professional work space or study. 

Hearing footsteps approaching, Jack quickly lowered his head again, muttering a ‘thank you’ as his mug of tea was placed before him, taking it in both hands and blowing it gently before taking a sip. 

“So Jackson, how was your journey? Everything go smoothly?” The smooth voice enquired, Jack nodding as he tried to keep his hands steady on his mug.  

“Yeah...can’t complain...” he mumbled, his cheeks flushed red as his eyes flicked up, spying long legs clad in black tight jeans, one leg crossed over the other. He quickly looked back at his shoes, shuffling nervously as the man before him went quiet then sighed, placing his mug on the table before sitting back. 

“Jackson, this isn’t going to work if you can’t even look at me. Are you having second thoughts?”. 

Jack flinched and looked up. “No! No not at....” he cut off, locking eyes with the man sat across from him.  

Bright golden eyes stared back at him, pale skin on an angular face and a shock of black hair swept back, a photo he’d studied religiously suddenly come to life. Even sitting, his tall frame wasn’t diminished, imposing dressed all in black despite being completely relaxed. 

A smirk lit his face, sitting straighter in his chair as he laced his fingers together, resting his hands on his lap.  

“Ah there we are. It’s nice to finally meet you Jackson” he said, his smirk growing into a grin that made Jack swallow thickly. 

“Just Jack is fine...and it’s...Nice to meet you too Kozmotis” Jack replied, mouth tilting up slightly as Kozmotis wrinkled his nose. 

“I prefer Pitch please...at least...when we aren’t playing hmm?” Pitch said, quirking his eyebrow at Jack who blushed slightly, fiddling with his cup as he went quiet. 

The room filled with silence, Pitch tilting his head as he watched Jack shuffle nervously before sighing, standing and walking over to Jack, kneeling in front of him and taking his cup out of his hands. Placing it on the coffee table, he took Jacks hands in his own before looking up at Jack seriously. 

“Jack tell me honestly...are you sure you want to do this? Because I understand if this is a little overwhelming for you....we don’t have to go any further if you’re not sure...”. 

Jack blinked down at him. “What? No! No no I want this Pitch! It’s just being here...” Jack took a moment to take a breath, looking around the room then back down at Pitch, squeezing his hand. “Just makes it....real...you know? I’m sorry, I’m probably not being clear...” he hurried, apologising as Pitch shook his head, a small smile on his face.  

“I understand completely...how about a tour of the house? Help you relax a bit?” Pitch suggested, Jack nodding in agreement before they both stood, Jack pulling his backpack onto his shoulder before following Pitch out of the room and into the house that would be his home for the next three days. 

Pitch took him around the ground floor first, showing him the kitchen and where everything was stored before showing him the living room and coat closet. Jack followed him, letting himself be awed by his surroundings, feeling his nervousness drift away little by little as they walked. 

They ascended the staircase, Pitch showing him the bathroom and guest bedroom before coming to his own room, Jacks heart rate speeding up slightly at the size of the four poster bed before him. He turned to Pitch, licking his suddenly dry lips. “Will...will I stay in here too? With you?”. 

Pitch looked over him with heat in his gaze. “You can if you wish; if not, you are free to use the guest room”. He hesitated before putting a hand on Jacks shoulder, squeezing lightly. “I want you to be as comfortable as possible during your stay”. 

Jack nodded, feeling some of the tension leak from him, Pitch squeezing his shoulder once more before taking a step back, gesturing to the room. “Feel free to leave your things in here or in the guest room which ever you’d prefer. Are you hungry at all? Another drink?”. 

“Maybe some water? Please?” Jack replied, Pitch nodding before walking off towards the stairs. “Come join me when you're ready” Pitch called before he descended, Jack letting out a breath as he heard his footsteps grow quieter.  

Stepping towards the bed, he sat on the edge, putting his bag on the floor next to it before sinking his hands into the softness of the covers, looking around the room. The whole room was decorated in blacks and deep purples, small bits of gold highlighting certain areas here and there. It was imposing and yet seductive all at the same time and Jacks mind was reeling.  

It’s not like he didn’t know what he was getting into. Hell, he’d been the one to pursue Pitch in the first place.  

But to have someone who was practically an expert after dealing with so many disappointments... 

Jack wrinkled his nose. That wasn’t particularly fair, it wasn’t his partners fault that Jack had different tastes in the bedroom, different ideas of excitement. 

Since becoming sexually active, Jack had never been concerned with the gender of his partners. Female, male, non-binary, it had never been a concern to him. As long as they’d been up for a bit of fun, he never had cause for complaint. But after the same thing over and over again, Jack had begun to grow bored, wanting more by unsure of what that ‘more’ was exactly. 

It was only when one of lovers suggested handcuffs one evening that he realised what it was that he wanted. 

He wanted to be dominated. 

As he was handcuffed and fucked into the bed, Jack felt like a heavy curtain had been lifted from his mind, refreshed with clarity and feeling, for once, fulfilled. 

Eager to explore this new avenue, he had to tried to find more partners better suited to this new taste, to no avail. Either they took it too far or were too inexperienced and despite being patient with each one, Jack was left feeling more frustrated than before. 

Which was how he met Pitch. 

Visiting some safe and friendly BDSM sites, he was reading some topics regarding potential experienced Dom’s when a friend suggested talking to a user named Pitch_Black, an experienced Dom who was safe, experienced and available. After reading Pitch’s profile and gathering the small amount courage he had, Jack had messaged Pitch, explaining his situation and wondering if Pitch would be interested.  

A few tentative emails back and forth was soon followed by exchanging numbers, which led to long talks and learning about each other, which inevitably led to...this. 

Jack agreeing to stay with Pitch for the weekend. 

Sliding off the bed, Jack walked back downstairs to find Pitch sitting at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, a glass of water waiting for him as well as an empty seat. Pitch patted the seat, Jack shyly sitting beside him, sipping the water. “So ...how...how does this work?” 

Pitch smiled. “Why don’t we just talk for a bit hmm? So ...white?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at Jack’s white locks, Jack running his hand through his hair as he chuckled.  

“Yeah I...I’ve been wanting to dye it for a while now” he replied, tugging at his hair slightly. “Figured now was as good a time as any”. 

“I like it, it suits you” Pitch complimented, Jack thanking him before taking another drink, moving to a new topic as the two began to talk more comfortably, Jack relaxing as they talked. 

He didn’t realise Pitch had been moving closer to him as they spoke, Pitch’s thumb rubbing the back of his hand bringing his attention to the movement, Pitch taking his hand without him even noticing.  

Jack went red, staring at their joined hands as Pitch lifted an eyebrow in curiosity. “Is this ok? I don’t  want to make you feel uncomfortable...”. 

Jack laughed, gulping down the rest of his drink and setting the glass back on the counter as he squeezed Pitch’s hand reassuringly. “Considering what we have planned for this weekend, I think I can handle a little hand-holding”.  

Pitch smiled and squeezed his hand before letting go, reaching over to the counter to grab a piece of paper. “Well then, no point putting it off any further...here’s the list you sent me of everything you said yes and no to...has anything changed since we last spoke?” he asked, handing the list to Jack who looked it over. 

“Hah I forgot we even discussed this” he chuckled, handing it back to Pitch. “Everything’s still the same, no changes”. 

“Good”. Pitch stood, putting the list into a nearby drawer before taking Jack’s hand, urging him to his feet. “Shall we?". 

Pitch led him quietly up the stairs and back to his bedroom, closing the door behind them both, Jack fidgeting nervously beside the bed. "So what do I...I mean what should I-". 

Pitch pressed a finger to his lips, eyes lidded as he looked down at Jack, suddenly taking on a more predatory look. "Ah ah, first things first Jack...tell me". He cupped Jack's cheek, moving closer. "Here, in this moment, I am no longer Pitch to you...who am I then? What is the title you give me during our games that assures me you are comfortable?". 

Jack raised an eyebrow, confusion on his face before it went slack with realisation, cheeks heating up once more. "M...My King" he said quietly, Pitch raising a hand to stroke Jack's cheek with his thumb.  

"Good, very good. And what is the one word that holds total dominion over me? Which ensures your safety and stops the game entirely?"  

Jack bit his lip, Pitch's thumb coasting down his cheek and jaw to thumb it loose from his teeth, running over it gently. "Ahh...Nightmare". 

Pitch's smile turned absolutely wicked as he leaned in. "Good boy Jack. You deserve a reward".  

Jack closed his eyes as Pitch leaned in to kiss him, his hands fisting in the bottom of his shirt as Pitch held his chin, controlling their kiss. He moved to open his mouth, to deepen the kiss when Pitch moved away, Jack listing forward momentarily to chase his lips before regaining himself, blinking at Pitch. 

Pitch stepped away, removing his shoes and putting them to one side before taking off his socks and shirt, putting them in a neatly hidden laundry hamper. Jack licked his lips at the sight of Pitch shirtless, his body taut and lean, not chubby but not muscular either. A supple frame that moved like water as he undid the top button and zip on his jeans, showing a hint of black boxers before sitting in an imposing armchair across from the bed, spreading his legs invitingly before steepling his fingers in front of him. 

"Now then" he purred. 

"Strip". 


 

Now 

Jack stared down at the floor as he panted heavily, a hand on his chest in an effort to help himself, a trickle of something he couldn’t identify as either cum or sweat running down his stomach and into the crevice of his hip. 

Oh God.  

Oh God that had been... 

He closed his eyes, managing to take a steadier breath, his thighs continuing to tremble uncontrollably as he listened to Pitch move around nearby, opening his eyes slowly and looking down at his body.  

He was littered with bite marks, some small and barely noticeable, others big and beginning to darken. The majority were around his ribs but he had a fair few between his thighs and in the dips of his hips.  

He even had some on his calves.  

A pair of knees appeared in front of him and he looked up to meet Pitch's worried golden eyes, so bright despite the concern. He crouched in front of Jack, a hand on his knee. "Jack? Are you ok?". 

Jack stared at him then threw himself forward, Pitch yelping as he fell backwards, Jack kissing him thoroughly as they lay naked and tangled on the floor. Jack broke the kiss, letting out a deep breath as he looked into Pitch's eyes. "I'm...fantastic" he breathed, Pitch blinking at him.  

"You are? Are you sure it wasn’t too much?" Pitch asked, a hand on Jack's lower back as Jack leaned up to look at Pitch better.  

"Did you hear me say Nightmare? It was....wonderful. I loved it...My King" Jack answered, his voice husky at the end of the sentence, Pitch smiling in response, giving Jack a quick kiss. 

"I'm glad". He sat up, Jack moving to sit between his legs. "Think you can make it to the en-suite bathroom for a bath?", he asked, Jack blowing out his lips with a chuckle.  

"I dunno...I might need a minute to catch my breath. I don’t know if you've noticed, but you kinda took it away" Jack pushed at Pitch's foot with his own playfully, Pitch huffing a laugh before standing, helping Jack to his feet.  

"It’s a good thing you're staying the weekend then, isn't it? Sit here, I'll get the bath running". Pitch ruffled his hair, disappearing into the bathroom as Jack flopped back onto the bed, staring up at the canopy of the bed, a wide grin spreading on his face, curling into a ball as he began to giggle happily before spreading out completely, stretching his limbs, feeling tingly all over. 

Damn. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this good. 

And it was just the post-orgasmic euphoria talking either. He felt relaxed and safe and... 

Happy. 

Pitch returned a few minutes later, leading him into the bathroom and pulling Jack with him down into a huge corner tub. He washed Jack thoroughly, from his hair down to his toes, Jack playing with the bubbles and smiling all the while. 

After washing, Pitch rubbed lotion onto every inch of Jack's body, massaging his limbs as he did so, Jack biting his lip as he struggled not to become aroused at Pitch's hands (now that he knew how talented they could be). Jack went to return the favour but Pitch stopped him, explaining that it was part of the process, taking care of the Sub after the game was over. He called it Aftercare. 

Jack sat thoughtfully as he watched Pitch dry and dress, realising that he wasn’t just coming to Pitch for sex (although yes, that was a part of it). He was also here to learn; about BDSM, about what was healthy and unhealthy in such a relationship, about trust, and above all, about himself. 

And as Pitch extended a hand to him, dressed back in his black jeans now along with a black tank top, he realised that he trusted Pitch to teach him, to help light his path and take care of him.  

Smiling, he slid his hand into Pitch's and followed him downstairs. 


 

Jack leaned back into the solid warmth of Pitch's chest, holding his box of noodles up to his mouth as he swirled his fork inside the box, trying to make sure no sauce or food dripped down his front as he scooped it into his mouth, chewing as the next episode started on Netflix, some show he wasn’t really paying attention to on screen. 

After a quick discussion, Pitch had called in a takeaway from the local Chinese restaurant that he swore made "the best salt and pepper chips in town, no word of a lie" while Jack helped himself to a drink from his fridge, pulling out the bottle of white wine that was sat in the door of the fridge to chill when Pitch asked him to retrieve it. Taking the bottle and other various snacks into the living room, as well as cutlery and glasses for the drinks, they had flicked through Netflix together until the door rang, signalling their dinner's arrival. As Pitch paid, Jack settled on something easy and mindless to watch, figuring Pitch would say something if he didn’t like it.  

To his surprise, Pitch had said nothing, instead distributing the food (but not before he'd fed Jack an infamous Salt and Pepper chip...it really was very good) before insisting Jack sit between his legs to eat, rolling his eyes and pulling Jack down in front of him when Jack tried to protest, resulting a hot-cheeked Jack constantly aware of the fact that he was pushing his boxer clad ass against Pitch's denimed crotch every time he had to lean over to the coffee table. 

Which was a lot.  

Pitch had finished eating a while ago, one bare foot resting against the nearby coffee table, an arm loosely draped around Jack's middle as they watched TV, his other hand holding his glass of white wine which he seemed to be taking his time with. Jack had already finished his first. 

Pitch sighed above him and leaned his cheek on top of Jack's head, fingers drifting under Jack's t-shirt, stroking his abdomen back and forth slowly, Jack's cheeks heating up as a shiver ran through him in response to the action. He'd never blushed so much in one day and was sure his head was going to overheat if he wasn’t careful.  

Clearing his throat, he shuffled underneath Pitch, indicating that he wanted to move. Pitch moved his head, Jack leaning forward to put his half-empty box on the table before sitting back against Pitch with a sigh, Pitch settling his cheek on Jack's head once more, however his fingers returned to their gentle stroking once Jack stopped moving, Jack resisting the urge to squirm. 

His fingers began to drift up and down instead, coasting up towards his chest then back down to his stomach, moving slightly higher each time, Jack becoming more and more focused on those lines of contact, the teasing trails of sensation they left, his breathing becoming more unsteady as his t-shirt was rucked up higher and higher. 

He realised he was getting hard and wriggled his hips, acutely aware of the position he was in. “Pitch?”. 

“Mmm?”. Pitch barely moved, his fingers still wandering up and down his skin, effortlessly sensual.  

Jack set his hands in his lap in an effort to hide his tented boxers, feet rubbing against one another. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was asking, his thoughts too focused on Pitch’s nails lightly dragging on his skin. He blew out a breath. “Mmngh...already?”. 

Pitch paused then chuckled low in his throat, his mouth suddenly next to Jack's ear. "What can I say? Your ass made a...convincing argument" he drawled, lightly biting the shell of Jack's ear as his hand slid into Jack's boxers, giving his cock a quick squeeze, Jack letting out a breathy moan. 

As his hand began to stroke Jack inside his boxers, his other hand suddenly appeared, now glass-free, and slid up Jack's body, thumbing a nipple slowly, Jack laying his head back on Pitch's shoulder as he squirmed in his lap, feeling Pitch's concealed hardness as he did so. 

"Sho ...shouldn't we...we be...ah! Ah ta...talking? Maybe...nngh! Get...get to kno-oooh-" Jack tried to reason, only for Pitch to bite his exposed neck gently, the hand in his boxers moving in long languid strokes, a thumb swiping over the top of his leaking cock.  

"Mmm tomorrow morning. For now, I'm more interested in getting to know you like this..." Pitch licked a stripe up from his exposed shoulder to his hairline, planting soft kisses here and there, Jack letting out a breath as he pressed back into Pitch's body, hips grinding down against Pitch's crotch.  

Biting the lobe of his ear, Pitch suddenly let go of Jack, taking his hands out from under his clothing and gripping his wrists. As Jack opened his mouth to ask, he set Jack's hands lightly on either of his thighs, holding them there. "I want you to keep your hands there unless I say so...can you do that Jack?" He murmured into his ear, Jack blinking down at their hands, gripping the fabric of Pitch's jeans before he nodded slowly. 

Pitch purred appreciatively. "Good ...very good Jack. Now then...". Slowly letting go of Jack’s wrists, he trailed his fingers up Jack’s arms, feather light trails leaving tingles in their wake. Leaving his arms, he drifted his fingers over his exposed thighs before manoeuvring Jack's boxers, pushing them below Jack's ass and freeing his leaking erection before reaching behind Jack's back, pulling out his own hard cock from the confines of his jeans, Jack feeling it slip, hot and slick, between his ass cheeks.  

Pitch slipped his hands under Jack's ass, manoeuvring him so that he was settled on Pitch's lap more securely before wrapping his fingers around Jack's cock, one hand slipping back under Jack's t-shirt, rubbing at a nipple, his hand on Jack's cock moving in sync with the hand on his chest, Jack's head thumping back onto Pitch's shoulder as he groaned.  

His orgasm built much quicker this time; from the sheer erotic nature of the situation or the fact that he'd already climaxed once today, he couldn’t say. As Pitch's hand worked his cock, Jack rocking his hips, feeling Pitch's cock rubbing between his ass and into the small of his back, his stomach dropped and want pooled low in his hips, chasing the body tingling feeling. 

His panting became quicker, and he pressed his head into Pitch's shoulder, readying himself when Pitch stopped, squeezing Jack's cock in such a way that his release was stalled, a whine escaping his throat as Pitch shushed him. 

"Not yet Jack, just a little longer, I promise" he soothed, Jack's hands fisting tightly into the fabric of Pitch's jeans as Pitch waited a few more seconds for Jack's release to abate before starting again, Jack almost instantly rocking his hips again in time with Pitch's hand. 

He vaguely felt fingers tangle into the hair at the back of his head, gripping his hair gently as Pitch turned Jack to face him, brushing the tip of his nose against Jack's as he panted against Jack's lips. 

He felt Pitch's hips stutter upwards beneath his ass in a vague thrust and ground down, flicking his tongue out to taste Pitch's lips, daring to take.  

Pitch moaned thickly as his lips covered Jack's, Jack kissing back eagerly, feet braced on the floor as his hands gripped Pitch's jeans tighter, knuckles whitening. His neck began to ache at the awkward angle he was in but Pitch's hand was relentless on him, pushing them both to their release and he couldn’t think, couldn’t move, didn’t WANT to move, it was just so good, so perfect, so, so- 

Pitch broke their kiss, hips thrusting up minutely as he came, cock trapped between his hips and Jack's back, releasing a stuttered breath on Jack's lips as Jack grit his teeth, trying to stifle his cry as he came over Pitch's hand and his boxers, hands gripped so tightly he thought he might have ripped Pitch's jeans.  
As he began to relax into Pitch, Jack slowly exhaled, opening his eyes halfway to look up at Pitch. 

Pitch was staring down at him, eyes flickering over every part of Jack's face as if trying to commit every inch of it to memory; eyes, eyelashes, the small smattering of freckles barely visible over Jack's nose, the slight scar on his chin from a childhood accident.  

He leaned in and kissed Jack again, this one more listless, sleepy like, drugging Jack as his lips dragged over Jack's again, the hand in his hair loosening to feather fingers through the strands instead. Breaking the kiss once more but leaving his forehead resting against Jack's, Pitch slowly let go of Jack's cock and gently gripped Jack's wrists, urging him to let go of his jeans.  

Jack hissed as he did so, his hands beginning tremble, followed by his thighs. Pitch silently helped Jack to move from his lap to the space next to him, getting up himself when Jack was seated. He disappeared into the kitchen and after a moment the kitchen tap began to run, Jack relaxing into the back of the couch, feeling boneless and yet overly sensitive all at once.  

When Pitch returned, he was shirtless and holding a warm damp cloth, his own lap cleaned and cum free and his jeans zipped back up. Helping Jack sit up, he removed Jack's t-shirt and cleaned his back and lap with the cloth before helping Jack pull up his boxers, much to Jack's embarrassment, who tried to focus on stopping his legs from trembling like a new born lamb.  

Turning off the TV, Pitch took the soiled shirt and cloth into the kitchen then came back, silently helping Jack to his feet and up the stairs, his eyes never leaving Jack for a moment longer than necessary. He led them both upstairs, Jack following him into his bedroom and climbing into his bed wordlessly, snuggling into the plush pillows with a tired sigh, the aches in his neck, fingers, hips, everywhere suddenly coming to life, his mind drowning out the pain as it clouded with sleep. 

Pitch watched him for a moment, a fond smile tugging at the corner of his lips before he pulled off his jeans, throwing them to a nearby chair as he turned off the lights, climbing into bed beside Jack who was almost already asleep.  

As Pitch slid under the covers, Jack shuffled up to him, pressing himself up against Pitch's body and burying his face into his shoulder, muttering unintelligibly. Pitch blinked down at him then curled his arm around Jack's shoulder, pulling him into his body more comfortably before putting an arm over his waist, kissing Jack lightly on top of his head. "G'night Jack" he whispered, closing his eyes. 

And in the darkness of the room, in a whisper so quiet he thought he might have dreamt it, Pitch heard Jack murmur.  

"G'night My King".