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Something was glinting, out by the row of silently howling, Halloween pumpkins, that framed his garden fence. A hint of bright, cheery red, that Pitch knew for a fact didn’t belong.
It wasn’t big, as per say. But it was definitely there, and without much thought for just how early the ungodly hour was, he found himself donning a pair of worn house-slippers to go and investigate.
The cold, slightly humid air of dawn hit him like a tidal wave. The chill waking him up, just as much as the thick, black sludge he liked to call coffee in his mug did. The grass crunching softly, as he squatted down to get a better look.
Pitch blinked. And then blinked again.
There was a tiny Santa hat on top of one of his ceramic pumpkins. Its little fuzzy strands of white fur, mixed with the glittery red of the woolen rest, sticking out like a sore thumb. The absurdity of it causing Pitch to look up. The man squinting, to get a proper look through his sleep-affected eyes.
Just as he had suspected, the first day of December had brought the beginning signs, of the building blizzard that was his neighbor’s Christmas decorations, out. The first two reindeers, out of nine in total, already standing tall in the middle of the other’s front lawn.
Where Jack even kept them away at for the rest of the year, Pitch had no clue. Not that he was any better though, Pitch allowed, as he glanced back at his own sprawling lawn, that looked as though a haunted house had spilled its guts all over it.
Pitch looked down again. An idea already forming in his head, as he stared at the glittery Santa hat gleaming innocently under the fragile rays of the morning sun. His slim fingers swift, as they delicately snatched one of the smallest pumpkins up and carried it along. Out of his own garden. Across the street, and all the way up to the plastic reindeer, that stared at him with its eerily unmoving eyes.
Carefully, with a skip in the beat of his heart for the fact that he was on foreign ground, Pitch placed the pumpkin on top of its head, right between its perked-up ears. The man taking a healthy swig from his caffeinated sludge before he hastily turned around and trotted back inside.
-
The next morning came about in a ringing scare of shrill alarms. Pitch’s own alarms, of course, and with a swift flick of a stern finger, he’d managed to suppress their wakening tunes.
Out of bed, he went. The man just gone to fetch himself his morning brew, when something red and shiny caught his attention, just as it had the day before.
Stock-still, frozen in his tracks by the window of his kitchen, he stared out at the five extra hints of cheer that had been placed on top of the remaining pumpkins. A stab of warmth blooming in his heart for it. A small wistful smile playing on his lip. The slippers all but foregone, as he went out, barefoot.
The grass crunched. Feet soaked by the time that Pitch reached the pumpkins and squatted down.
This time, it was a handful of cheery, red-hatted elves that stared back at him. Each roughly the size of his palm.
A grin slowly formed across his face, as he looked to Jack’s side of the street. Pitch noting the five additional reindeer, and half a sleigh, that greeted him in all their unfinished glory.
With little hesitation, he’d grabbed the biggest spider, and the headband with an axe through that one of the pumpkins had donned, and made it across. Confidence in his heart, as he placed the spider on the back of one of the reindeer, while the axe went across the head of another.
A tad too enthusiastically, Pitch petted the thick plastic, before he turned back.
-
On the third day, Pitch hadn’t even made it fully to the window before he froze in shock. And then stared. The man as impressed as he was delighted.
Jack had been busy-
At least half of his decorations were sporting some sort of cheer. There, by the hedge, fake, multicoloured candles sat like a pointed crown around the head of a hissing crow. And there, by the shed, Christmas lights had been wrapped around a decapitated skeleton like a strange, poorly-knitted sweater. The thick, iron witch cauldrons at its feet all filled with colourful, glittery ornaments.
And on Jack’s side of the flickering streetlight, the nine erected reindeers pushed the completed sleigh along, while fake snow spread out underneath their hooves and wooden boards alike. The whole thing looking as if an entire couch had been gutted, filled with pristinely white glitter, and then strewn about.
Several more of the palm-sized elves poked out of the ‘snow’. A few Christmas trees – also covered in snow – framing Jack’s own garden fence.
Pitch didn’t even care to pour himself coffee. Feet already moving with purpose before he could think better of it.
It was day three. Day three of December, and Jack had already managed this much?
Oh, Pitch thought to himself, as he grabbed three of the witch cauldrons and went to stuff it full of elves and fake snow – Oh, it was on.
-
Jack stared down at the upturned elves sat snug in their weird snow-soup. A gooey warmth in his belly that had refused to go away, ever since he’d spotted the first pumpkin proudly riding on top of his reindeer.
He couldn’t help it. A slight grin spreading on his face as he picked up one of the downed elves, by its feet, and spun it around in his hand.
He knew that he had at least an entire box more of the things standing ready in his living room. Had originally thought to stuff his windowsills with them, to create a wall of cheerful elves meant to stare out at whatever pedestrian walked through their little neighborhood, but now… Now he had other ideas.
He could make it look like several elves had been thrown like darts across Pitch’s lawn, Jack thought to himself, as he spun the elf again – or maybe the elves could be placed in a circle around the big grim reaper standing near Pitch’s garage.
Decision made, he put the elf back down into the cauldron, headfirst like the others, before he went to grab the box of its remaining brethren.
He was gonna do both, and then some-
-
Pitch let out a very undignified chuckle as he stared at the giant dartboard that Jack had, somehow, managed to attach to the front of one of his oversized tombstones. The pointy hat of a single elf penetrating a little from the bullseye, while the rest were scattered all around the board, the lawn, and the tombstone itself. The hats all sticking into the ground at an angle that made it look as though they had indeed been thrown.
Greatly, Pitch could appreciate that Jack hadn’t actually damaged his decorations in any way. The obvious care behind the tape and robe, that bound the board to his own, causing a little flutter in his chest. Even the grim reaper as well, he quickly found, had been tied up with lights, carefully tipped on its side and was being ‘dragged away’ by more of the dreadful elves, and speaking of elves- how did Jack have this many elves?
Pitch looked about for any further cheerful sabotage, and quickly, he found some.
His screaming angel, that had been holding a tray of skulls, was now holding a tray full of tiny Christmas trees, houses and figurines. The skulls carefully placed at the foot of the statue itself, while a wreath of spraypainted evergreen had been laid around the angel’s neck. More Christmas lights put on top and down its flayed back like a bright, multicoloured veil.
Then, a dash of colour caught his eye at ground-level, and Pitch squatted down. One knee just shy of touching to the cold earth.
The not-so-empty eye sockets of the skulls had been filled up with tiny figurines as well. A single baby-Jesus waving out at him, while a bunch of cherubs played the strings of their golden harps.
Pitch knew that he was wearing a ridiculously loopy smile. Could feel it in his jaw and in the way that his eyes crinkled up, as he looked across to Jack’s lawn. The man deep in thought, on how to proceed, for several minutes.
Then, he felt the smile gradually slip into a smirk, as the idea bloomed before his inner eye.
-
Jack couldn’t help but touch it. The cobwebs looked so soft. And they were. The whole thing stretching itself out over the backs, and around the hooves, of every single one of his reindeer. Their heads blinded by little hoods that had been sewn, specifically for them. The fabrics painted with bony structures and covered in dark glitter, that made them look like the weirdest half-bred, Christmassy nightmare-deers he’d ever seen. The nine of them serving as a perfect mix between horrific and cheerfully adorable.
As he lifted the hoods, he found the plastic underneath to be perfectly safe and clean. The realization clear – just as Jack had taken care not to vandalize Pitch’s props in any way, the man in turn had done the same.
He could appreciate the respect. A lot, in fact. Giddy stabs of joy doing all sorts of wicked stuff in his chest, as he set up a few more of the elves, that had been swimming around the bottom of his rapidly depleting box.
By the end of it, Jack placed his hands in his pockets. Head inclined, as he thought on what else he could do.
-
Pitch went out, coffee in hand. His free one circling out to absently pat one of the five penguins, that had been put to stand guard by his front door. A smile on his lip, as he looked out over his yard.
The cloth ghosts, that he had strung around his flagpole months ago, had been equipped with candy-cane aprons. And somehow, Jack had made it look as though they were a little team of bakers. One flying about with a bowl full of dough. Another with a whisk in hand. A third with a miniature oven in its fabric-y grip.
The pure absurdity over the last one made Pitch let out a genuine cackle. The delighted laughter going for far longer than it had any right to, but he supposed it had to do with the hot sensation squeezing his heart in the bests of ways.
Pitch sat himself down on his doorstep. Elbow settled to his knee. Fist to cheek, as he just basked in the glory of it all.
-
Jack blinked. Then blinked again.
There was a full-scale, somewhat human-looking zombie in the sleigh. With a white wig, that matched the haircut on his head, and a thick, green hoodie. The reins delicately wrapped around its rotting fingers, and Jack had a moment of insanity where he touched the glowing cords. The realization echoing deep in his core-
Pitch had touched these.
With a pang in his chest, Jack sighed at himself. This was getting ridiculous… But the warm ball of fuzzy heat in his belly had been there for years, and it had only expanded over the last twelve days where they’d been going at it.
And at this rate…
Shaking himself from his brief stupor, Jack looked to where his penguins now all sported wide-brimmed witch-hats and rustic-looking brooms. Two of the arctic birds accompanied by large toads, with top-hats, sitting elegantly on their floppy feet.
Jack couldn’t help it. Didn’t really want to help it, as he allowed himself to smile before going in to retrieve another scarf for the zombie.
He found a pair of mittens too, that he hoped to carefully manage under the reins without dislodging their original placement too much. The mittens and scarf clutched close to his chest, as he spared a glance at the large train sitting ready on his ridiculously large coffee table.
With an excited hum, he shifted in place, as an idea took form in his head.
-
There were train-tracks running through his entire yard. There was a train on them, too. And at the end...
His hellhound had been tied down with a bunch of Christmas lights. A flock of elves standing cheerfully around to watch its coming demise.
Pitch spluttered in surprise. Honestly though, he couldn't deny the fact that he loved it. Hands itching to move, as he went over and placed a grinning pumpkin on top of the train before looking ahead to Jack’s side of the street.
-
Jack kicked at the ‘snow’-covered ground before him. A bit of glitter getting stuck between his toes, as he grinned up at his inflatable snowman.
It was wearing a crown of plastic bones around its neck. Several of the like stuck in its black top-hat as well…
Or at least, Jack thought that they were made of plastic, but they looked pretty damn real. As did the scythe strapped to its plump hand with clear packing tape. The frayed, dirty-looking cape doing wonders towards completing the clashing design.
Jack looked further about. Hand fidgeting with the hem of his pocket.
A headless ghoul was skating on the fake lake that he had put out. Its severed head lying about like a skipped rock on the ice. And there, a little ways beside it, the tall, ornamental lamppost, that he had put up just the night before, had a scarecrow in it, and two ravens perched proudly on each side.
How Pitch had even gotten up there, Jack had no clue. Jack shaking his head, and finally, that was when he noticed the skeleton cat perched on his mailbox.
With open excitement, he cooed at how cute it was.
And then promptly went to find a scarf and hat for it.
-
Pitch stared at the cat. And then at the scarecrow, that now had a colourful scarf wrapped neatly around its neck as well. A ring of elves standing tall at its feet, like some twisted ritual to a harvest deity.
As for the ghoul, Jack had added Christmas baubles and several ornament to every available spot that they could’ve been hung from. The ghoul looking downright cheerful, as it searched for its fallen head.
His fingers itched with a slow-building need as he snatched up, and then went to place several additional pumpkins around in the snow on Jack’s side of the street.
Afterall, Pitch thought to himself, as he stared over at a pack of elves 'kidnapping' a few pumpkins from his own lawn - Jack seemed to really like those.
-
Jack looked to Pitch’s side of the street with a bit of sadness in his heart.
It was day twenty-two, and he had nothing more to add. Nothing at all. Every single one of his own decorations sporting some spook, while all of Pitch’s sported some cheer. Not a single prop left undecorated by either of them, and Jack smiled to himself, despite the hint of gloom. Because stronger than that- stronger than the sadness, a feeling of completion sat snug in his chest and belly. Jack satisfied, with what he had done. With what they had done. His fingers on the left absently scratching at his inner wrist on the right.
The invitation, that North had personally come by to leave at his door the night before, burned in his pocket. The whole thing making him strangely nervous.
No, he allowed himself to dwell - Pitch and he hadn’t talked at all since the first little Santa hat had been placed from Jack’s side on. No quick acknowledging glances or heartfelt ‘hellos’ shared from their respective sides of the flickering streetlight.
Not that they had seen each other at all since the beginning of their friendly little sabotage competition. Unaligned, as their schedules tended to be. Pitch up ridiculously early in the morning, practically still night, to take care of his awful seven to three, while Jack worked freelance later in the day.
He knew that he could change it up if he wanted to, though. Jack having complete freedom, with how he set his hours. And right now, that sure came in handy with the early evening hours that North had put on the invitation...
-
Jack was going to be there. In all his unpredictable glory, and Pitch longed. The man stepping around his house at a near waltz, a delightful little tune building on his tongue, as he got himself ready.
It had been ages since he had last seen Jack. Or it felt like it, at least. The monthly meetings, that Manny demanded they attend, the only time they ever truly saw each other outside of happenstance or spontaneity…
In truth though, it had barely been more than twenty-three days since they had spoken, if be that very briefly, but that was long enough, and Pitch longed. Longed, for their little exchanges and quick, greeting waves.
With a glance spared up at the clock sat high on the wall of his office, he noted the hour. The minutes that still remained, until he got to see Jack again.
Soon, he knew, as he fished out a couple of golden rings for himself and tugged them on - Real soon.
-
He looked good, Jack thought to himself. Aware that he was going to blush something fierce if he kept staring - Fuck, Pitch looked fine. All dressed in sharp, crisp blacks and golden details. Whatever robe he had conducted, out of the purest night in winter, draping his form in sleek, dark shadow. Elegant, as he chatted away with a cheerful looking Toothiana.
Jack blinked. Willing himself not to fidget too much with his sleeve. Restless fingers nevertheless drumming along the edge of his hot eggnog, as he leaned against the wall of the living room and tried to look interested in the Christmas tree instead.
North really went all-out every year, Jack thought, as he traced the shape of the giant Christmas tree, smothered in ornaments and baubles alike, all the way to the shining star on top – every inch of his house, both inside and out, filled with cheer and light and-
Pitch was laughing at something that Tooth had said. The sound rich, and smooth, and dark with the deepest of horrors, and Jack swallowed something thick before hiding himself a bit down into his snowflake-covered, oversized sweater. The back of his head rested against the wall. The fluffy fabric-antlers, that stuck out of his hair, bending softly under the press of unyielding tapestry.
His heart was doing something embarrassing. All hot and warm and happy. The honing of his gaze betraying him, as his eyes sought out the source of the velvet laughter that drifted into the air like precious pearls…
Fuck. Fuck-
Pitch looked so content. All smug and sly and-
He was looking in his direction. Pitch was looking at him. A pleasant gleam in his eye as he nodded his head in polite greeting, and Jack smiled. Big and hard and sincere. Cheeks going a slight beat of red as he raised a hand and waved.
Pitch waved back. The smile returned as well, if infinitely softer. Amber eyes ablaze with fondness and Jack’s heart skipped a beat. Willing himself not to drift over and say something truly stupid that would ruin the moment.
Jack went to help set the table, while North carried out the prepared the food, instead. Then stayed by the table to chat for a bit. Jack’s bare feet restless. The tip of a toe working over the rough strands of the carpets, until the rest of the guests came to, and North bid them all to take their seats and eat.
Jack hadn’t paid attention to where his name-card was at, though. Arranged, as North had decided their seating to be, but within beats, it became clear to him.
North had placed him next to Pitch. Had placed them next to each other, and Jack’s whole being flushed with a rosy sense of joy. Something giddy registering too, as he caught North’s knowing eye.
The jolly bastard winked at him.
And Jack smiled back at him. Grateful, and entirely out of his element. Wishing that he could be more intimate in a setting this full, but he couldn’t. The words, that he really wanted to say, easily drying up, when too many ears could hear…
Despite his nerves, dinner went well. Too well, really. The thick gravy and sweetened potatoes shoved down like his life was depending on it. The potato-fight, between Sandy and himself, halted only after Bunnymund had had enough and barked at them to cut it the fuck out already. The chatter kept soft and polite except for that, until Jack could go and help clear up the dishes.
Most of the guests had departed by then. Only Bunnymund and himself staying behind to help clean up a bit… And Pitch. Pitch had stayed as well. The two now side by side once more, as they did the dishes. Jack washing them by hand, while Pitch took care of the drying. The pleasant chatter between them going in no specific direction at all, with there being other people nearby. The vibe just calm. Easy, as they shared random tidbits from their respective days just passed.
It made something hot churn tightly in Jack’s stomach. The pull of it spreading out, as Pitch passed him a pleasant smile. The gesture sudden enough, that Jack nearly dropped the plate he was handing him.
Pitch caught it though. His hand gently wrapped around Jack’s, and Jack laughed. Light and airy, as his gaze briefly slipped to Pitch’s grinning mouth. The overjoyed curve of it, and then back down to the waiting bubbles all coating the surface of the dishwater.
It took effort, but somehow, he managed to finish up without breaking any of North’s expensive china. Jack drying his hands off in his sweater, before heading back towards the living room, to check for any leftover plates or other. Managing it almost to, when he paused in the doorway.
Something white and green had caught his eye. Jack’s neck craned to better see, as he had stopped directly below it.
North had hung up a tiny mistletoe. The stem itself covered in a fine layer of silvered glitter. The small thing looking delicately innocent, as Jack looked back at Pitch.
‘’Hey,’’ Jack wiggled his brows as Pitch looked over. ‘’You know what they say, right?’’ he pressed on a playful tone.
Pitch blinked. Not seeming to catch his drift, until Jack gestured up at it.
Pitch blinked again. Once, thrice, until something delighted spread through his whole expression. His soft laughter sounding entertained, and Jack’s heart skipped a beat, as the man actually waltzed over.
Pitch got up close. Real close. The faint traces of cinnamon, and something deeper, sharper, like spicy honey over burning coal, enveloping him. The scent as dark and strange as it was enticing and very hard to ignore, now that Jack had the capacity to actually notice it.
Pitch cupped his cheeks with the utmost of care. A fond smile invading his lip, and Jack’s lashes fluttered. A sense of right and good and yes please filling him up, as he covered the hands on him with his own, and then looked down at Pitch’s lips before meeting the man’s amber gaze once more.
Pitch’s eyes gleamed. The flames in the flickering hearth making them appear ablaze.
‘’What do they say, Jack?’’ Pitch’s tone was knowing and willing. Full of affection, and Jack’s knees went a little weak.
‘’Kiss me.’’
It was a soft thing. Unhurried, as they both finally got exactly what they wanted. The tiny mistletoe gleaming away with all its silver and green, as Pitch kissed him with nothing but gentle care and tenderness. The whole thing over much too soon however, and so they stayed, closely together, as they parted. Pitch’s thumbs tracing under Jack’s eyes, as Pitch closed his own. The man savoring it. Savoring him, and Jack couldn’t help but kiss the underside of Pitch’s jaw before leaning close enough to embrace, and then rest his cheek to his chest. Right above the other’s heart.
Pitch’s arms went around him as well. One hand trailing to the low of Jack’s back. Pressing him closer, and Jack sighed in contentment. His heart beating nothing but warmth and joy and a sense of finally. The organ-
‘’Good lord- Get a room, you fucking nits,’’ a gruff voice complained from the far corner of the kitchen, and Jack huffed at something startled. The roll of his eye loud, as he nevertheless stayed right where he was.
‘’Shut up, Bunny,’’ came the reply in unison, as both Jack and Pitch waved him off, and Jack barked a laugh. Then continued as much, as Pitch nudged to get him with, into the vacant living room and behind the cover of the wall, which he gently pressed Jack’s shoulder against. The man turning, to press his own to it as well. Effectively keeping Jack close, while in no way trapping him.
He didn’t kiss him a second time, though. Pitch just tracing his thumb across Jack’s bottom lip at a soft caress.
‘’It’s awfully dark outside,’’ Pitch’s deep velvet glided against his skin like the smoothest of silk. ‘’I don’t suppose I may escort you home?’’
Jack laughed. The sound deep and merry. ‘’We live right in front of each other. Kinda hard not to, if you’re heading out right now as well,’’ he pointed out, to which Pitch’s soft huff of air came close to a laugh.
‘’I can stay behind for a few minutes more if you’d prefer to take the walk alone.’’
‘’And what- you’re gonna be my secret, big, scary dog privilege and creep after me in the dark?’’
Pitch’s eyes narrowed a tad. Tone playful. ‘’Well, that would be your choice,’’ he said. ‘’-If you want me to be seen or not.’’
Jack leaned the side of his head against the wall. Disturbing his antlers. ‘’Think it’s easiest if you’re just beside me,’’ he settled. ‘’Besides, I like your company,’’ he finally admitted aloud, as his hand fumbled for a pocket that wasn’t there. ‘’A lot,’’ he said, as that same hand came up to scratch at the back of his neck instead.
Pith’s eyes softened. Clear adoration beamed at the other, and Jack could easily tell just how much their mutual pranks had done for them. For the unspoken thing between them that hadn’t ever truly been put into the correct words, but it was there. Floating just beneath the surface of every passing ‘what have you been up to’-s. Each lingering conversation by the mailboxes or monthly meetings where Pitch hitched him a ride.
‘’The feeling is mutual.’’
Jack’s heart just about exploded. Palm itchy, as he spared a quick glance towards the, indeed, cleared table before turning back to Pitch.
‘’Well,’’ the tone was chipper but rushed. ‘’-I’m taking you up on the big, scary dog privilege. It is dark out and you’re…’’ Jack circled a hand. The corner of his mouth quirking up at something teasing. ‘’You,’’ he settled.
Pitch didn’t seem one bit offended. Didn’t waste much time at all, either, as he instead offered one last entertained smirk before he ushered Jack out. Back into the kitchen, past the glaring Bunnymund, and then out into the crammed foyer, where he bent down to fish his boots out from under an insanely large, fake Christmas tree. A bit of fake snow brushed off of the impressively black leather, before he tugged them on, and then went to hold the door open.
‘’After you,’’ Pitch lightly bowed at the waist. A hand kept to his chest, and Jack just huffed. The sound airy and delighted. Something awfully giddy pulsing through him, as they went out into the cold air of the early December night.
Just as Pitch had said, it was indeed completely dark out already. The flickering streetlamp, that the government had had yet to care about, casting their surroundings in dim, spontaneous light. The pavement cold and rough beneath Jack’s feet, but it was fine. Especially so, with the current company, that stayed just as close to his side, as he did to Pitch’s.
As though reacting on that, Pitch offered his arm, and gladly, Jack took it. A subtle warmth starting up in his belly that gradually spread out. Worse so, as their respective houses, and the sprawling chaos of decorations that they had created, came into view. The two lawns in front of each other looking truly as though they had been in a festive deathmatch of opposing holidays.
As Jack stopped for a moment to just appreciate it all, Pitch did as well.
‘’Well?’’ Jack said, as he let his hand slip from Pitch’s arm. That very same hand instead skimming along the other’s wrist. ‘’You up for a nightcap? Just, with no alcohol and a whole lotta chocolate added instead?’’
Pitch’s hand turned. Fingers interlacing and Jack’s breath stuttered. ‘’Are you offering me hot cocoa, Jack?’’
Jack grinned up at him. Bright and true. ‘’If you’re in?’’ he pressed, as he took a subtle step towards his own front door.
Much to his delight, Pitch nodded. ‘’I could definitely share a cup if you’re serious,’’ he settled, to which Jack smirked.
‘’Honey, you can have an entire barrel if you want,’’ he joked, and in turn, Pitch laughed. The tune light and genuine.
‘’A mug will by far suffice, thank you.’’
Jack squeezed his hand. Something that felt much like excitement, and definitely was as much, close in his heart, as he let the way into his yard. Past their shared, cheerfully horrific creations, and then into his home.