I don't think this one has ever been posted to bakerstreet, but it's too cute to pass up!

[interjection]

First Kiss Meme one. It's your first date, and you're dropping them off at the door. Are they going to lean in? Should you..? two. You have been friends since forever. Everyone knows you like each other, but the moment quite hasn't arisen for the first kiss. Until now. three. Awkward first kisses! Maybe you just bumped noses, or you kissed their chin instead. Time for attempt number two! four. Maybe this is your very first kiss, or maybe it's theirs! Either way, one of you is experienced and the other isn't. What if it turns out really bad?! (But hey, maybe you're a natural.) five. The accidental kiss. Might have tripped over your own feet, or maybe you've collided and they landed on top of you. Either way, your lips are locked- Where you go from there is up to you. six. UST kisses. There's been some sort of tension between you for a while. Maybe you fight all the time, maybe you're in love with each other and you keep getting interrupted before anything happens. Either way, that tension needs to end now! seven. Either pick one, mesh some together, or re-roll! INSTRUCTIONS: • Post with your character! • Reply to other people with your character and go to the RNG to generate a number between 1 and 7. • Match that number to the choices above! • Reply to the thread starter and go from there. • Any rating goes, but no wank, please! :> originally from here.

Comments

[prettylittlenightmare]

[Whatevs.]

That's pretty much the gist of it.

[A beat.]

Would you like me to leave?

[icy]

I didn't say that. [ Don't jump to conclusions!! Shifting his feet to crack the cramps out of his toes, he looks him over with carefully constructed neutrality. ] How's your nose?

[prettylittlenightmare]

[A good neutral non-answer, and one he was expecting. He shrugs one shoulder half-heartedly.]

No longer bleeding.

[icy]

No longer whining either, huh?

[prettylittlenightmare]

[Low. His lip twitches but he hides it with a toothy smile.]

Not at the moment. Hiding yourself away in snow drifts? You were rather difficult to pinpoint.

[icy]

I don't hide. [ He can't even when he wants to, not for long. The snow always falls sooner or later. ] Why did you come looking for me?

[prettylittlenightmare]

You hide in plain sight.

[You're good at that, being unnoticed. So is Pitch.]

Because I don't like how our last meeting ended.

[icy]

You didn't like getting your face bashed in? I'm shocked.

[ He snorts and folds his arms anew, a cold wry smirk in place as self-deprecating as it is humourless. ]

[prettylittlenightmare]

[Pitch narrows his eyes at Jack, barely there glints of gold peeking through the shadows.]

Frost.

[icy]

[ Though his smile fades, his eyes don't change. ]

I don't really know what it is you're expecting me to say. I left you alone, what else do you want?

[prettylittlenightmare]

[Sometimes the expression in those eyes does things to him he doesn't ever want to talk about.]

I want what you came to me for in the first place.

[icy]

[ An incredulous laugh huffs out as he asks, ] Why? That was the worst kiss in history. You want to freeze your nose right off next time?

[ Or he'd mess it up some other way; he's been counting. ]

[prettylittlenightmare]

I want you to shut up and let me make it happen as it should.

[It's sterner than he was going for, and that's to blame for the lack of socializing he's done in the past couple centuries. He realizes it, though, and backs off with a steady inhale and exhale.]

Will you let me do that, Jack?

[icy]

[ Urgh, this is way more than he thought he'd have to deal with this week, let alone tonight. ]

I don't know. [ It makes him flighty, knowing this stuff is coming instead of just tossing it out there on a whim. Jack shrugs. The best way to deal with it is to amuse himself, he supposes, to lessen the anxiety that he'll screw up and Pitch won't want to speak to him at all, maybe for decades next time — ] If you can make it over here, sure.

[prettylittlenightmare]

[It's a nice thought, the spontaneity of it, but clearly that doesn't work out the greatest for either of them, so this is his offer, his damn-near demand. Without a word he jumps through the shadows to Jack's side of the balcony, right behind him and to his right.]

Come here.

[icy]

[ Not a lot of people get to hear Jack curse, but there's a hiss as Pitch pulls his shadow trick and he twitches reflexively. ]

Can't you put a lid on that?

[ Grousing, up he gets with his hood still in his face, slouching against his staff. ]

[prettylittlenightmare]

[Pitch looks down at himself then back up at Jack, gaze flat.]

Can you stop being cold?

[It's who he is, better get used to it. Pitch reaches over and grabs Jack by the front of his hoodie and yanks him closer, but not so close as to hit their noses together again, that would be truly unfortunate.]

Take that off, you look like a dejected teenager, and I know that although you may look it, you're not.

[icy]

[ So sensitive, gosh.

Tensing when tugged in, he scowls at Pitch and without looking away reaches up to drag the hood off. Mutinously, but even so; it isn't often anyone looks beyond Jack's appearance, that deserves a degree of obliging behavior. The staff hooks around the back of Pitch's neck as much for somewhere to rest as to get him back for issuing demands. ]

I didn't mean to make you bleed.

[ It just ... feels like he should remind him. In case. ]

[prettylittlenightmare]

[Pot, kettle.]

[All Pitch does in response to the staff is hum in the back of his throat, he's too busy looking at Jack. Really looking, because this is the longest they've been close, the longest either of them has allowed the other to stay close. He sees the barely there freckles peppering Jack's cheeks and around his eyes, he sees the flecks of brown amidst the silvery blue of his eyelashes and brow. He sees just how unsure Jack is of all of this when he can read it in his eyes and feel the muted color of his fears. He sees loneliness, and a bone-deep ache for something more.]

I know.

[It's not loudly spoken, and whoops his hand has crept up and his thumb barely brushes at the nape of Jack's neck.]

[icy]

[ Jack would like to think he's not reeling in the physical presence Pitch offers as much as the Boogeyman is with his, but he can't help it. Hoarfrost, just as prickly and soft as his emotions, rushes over the thumb sifting into his hair as it sends tingles rising along his neck. Better not to mention the state of the glimmering floor at all. ]

Did it hurt a lot after I left?

[ Probably, his pessimism supplies. ]

[prettylittlenightmare]

[He's fascinated by the way the frost moves more than he's concerned about the shock of cold lancing up his thumb, not to mention the ripple of gooseflesh that rises along Jack's skin that has his gaze caught. He doesn't respond to the question right away, exploring the coarseness of Jack's hair and the smooth expanse of his neck and jaw. When he does acknowledge it, he looks right at him, stopping all other movement.]

Shush. Don't move.

[Bending, Pitch tips Jack's chin up with his thumb just as he catches his lips with his own.]

[icy]

[ For someone as free and independent as Jack, he takes to instruction well when it doesn't come off abrasive. He stills and finds his attention switching between jagged teeth and bright eyes, and lets his lashes shutter as their lips brush. Pitch isn't exactly warm but neither is Jack in the habit of putting anything above freezing in his mouth so he mostly registers (despite the buzzing in his ears) unexpected softness. Leaning in and up, he meets it after a few breaths to hesitantly chase the delicious pressure, the fingers of his free hand curling in the lapels of a seamless robe as if to hold onto the moment.

A stunted noise echoes in the back of his throat, curious and content to memorize things as they are, snow thickening as it falls from the sky but not, for once, owing to a bad mood. ]

[prettylittlenightmare]

[Pitch allows the kiss to linger light and soft for a short while before exhaling hard through his nose and pushing closer, probing with his tongue along Jack's lips, swiping them clean of frost. The kiss is cold and dry but far from unpleasant, and Pitch is incredibly content to make it last, his fingers gently tracing a silken jawline and back to cradle the other spirit's head in his hand.]

[icy]

[ He's almost entirely certain he hasn't started flying, though his insides have suddenly become weightless and it seems impossible to do anything but let his weight lilt against Pitch's far sturdier frame. When heat laps across the seam of his lips they part on instinct, carrying with them an aborted noise that sounds far too much like a whimper for him to later acknowledge it ever existed, ice melting over his mouth with each lazy, hot drag. Jack shivers for the first time in centuries, head to toe.

It's on the cusp of a suddenly impatient inhale that he presses in and up to thrust his ice-cold tongue over a far warmer one, eager to deepen the kiss with only movies and several lifetimes' worth of romantic fancy as his guide. The hand that isn't curled around his staff runs up dark lapels (darkness feels strangely like velvet, he dimly registers, need to investigate that later) to grasp onto a tall shoulder and send whorls of delicate frost out in dizzying relief against black shadow-cloth, more intricate and bright than what he usually paints. Pitch's coat sparkles, matching the delicate snowflakes that slowly begin to fall.

Jack has no real idea what he's doing and tries to make up for it with eagerness, severe cheekbones highlighted in a dead lilac blush as he tries to time his breathing so he doesn't have to pull away. His nose is, notably, the only part of him that stays incredibly cold the longer their skin meets. ]

[prettylittlenightmare]

[Jack's weight is so minimal as to be basically nonexistent as the winds have picked up and even though his literal weight is against Pitch, it takes no effort to hold them both upright. He eats up the noises Jack makes with the intensity of his kisses, swallowing them whole and savoring them with growls and more heat. Endless heat.]

[The sudden forwardness from the frost spirit has Pitch gasping but not breaking the connection, too determined to face the cold and accept it, even as whirls of fern frost coat his ordinarily shadowed robes. They reach all the way to his wrists and tingle down his chest, making him shiver in a not unpleasant fashion.]

[In the end it's Pitch who breaks the kiss first with his eyes at half mast and blown wide with only the tiniest sliver of gold to line his irises. He exhales and the proof of their joining is seen in the frost of his breath.]