Pitch slowly stepped out of the shadows, his eyes carefully scanning the sky. It had been a while since he was last able to breathe fresh air from the surface. He wanted to savor every moment. But of course he had to be certain that he wouldn't immediately be shoved back underground. His lips curled up into a smile as he found that he was fortunate this night. There was no moon. No pale face to watch and judge his every move, no one to force him back into the gloom in which he was forced to live. And no one to steal away the promise of what would most certainly be a pleasant night.
The nightmare king silently crept through the snow covered ground, following a path he knew well. He walked slowly, enjoying the faint glow the snow emitted as it reflected the starlight above. He paused only a moment to admire the delicate icicles hanging from the bare trees. Or at least it would have been only a moment if he hadn't been suddenly struck from behind, falling roughly into a snow pile. He managed to stand, finding that a teen with alabaster skin had been plastered to his back.
"Must you tackle me every time I come out Frost?" The teen only mumbled something into the nightmare kings back. Pitch chuckled lightly, managing (with a bit of difficulty) to extract himself from the teens arms. "Now what did you say?"
"I said that if you came out more often I wouldn't miss you so much I'd have to tackle you. But of course knowing me I'd tackle you anyway." Pitch chuckled again.
"That's true enough. And as for coming out more often I wish I could. But if there is one thing I know about the Man in the Moon, it is that he is a massive tattle-tale." Jack pouted and grumbled a bit but he knew that Pitch was right. As much as he hated to admit it.
"Well then what are we waiting for? If it is to be only tonight then let's make it a night to remember."
"That's what you say every time I come to see you!" Pitch said as the teen rapidly dragged him away.
"P-Pitch." Jacks voice rang into the quiet empty night. "M-More" Pitch dug his nails sharply into his lovers hips as he pounded ferociously into the winter spirit. Jacks eyes fluttered closed in ecstasy, his own nails drawing blood from the nightmare kings shoulders. This is how it went, once a month, every month. Keeping away from the watchful eyes of the most powerful of the guardians. But unbeknownst to them they were being watched by a completely different set of mismatched eyes. Eyes that came with sealed lips. As long as Jack wash happy and Pitch did not hurt him then she saw no reason to ruin what he had.